One Last Ride
by DarthPeezy
Summary: It has been four years since Nick Wilde joined the ZPD. Four years of patrols, drug busts and the occasional homicide investigation. It was stressful, dangerous and routine. But a murder in his apartment has him taking on a new case and discovering a dark conspiracy as he pieces together the clues to the murder. A story of justice, of loss and of love: this is Nick's Last Ride.
1. Chapter 1

_The bullet whizzed by his ear, lodging with a dull thud in the wall behind. Nick Wilde ducked down as the ra-ta-ta of the automatic weapon intensified, pressing his body flush against the steel half-wall he was using as cover. His body armour felt unnaturally light. Well, it was never meant to deal with a light machine gun._

 _He glanced to the left. The lupine officer beside him snapped out of cover, laying down a burst of fire with his assault rifle before ducking down. Firefights were loud, Nick realised. Deafening, even._

 _A grunt to his right had him facing his first—and only—partner, Judith Laverne Hopps. Judy. Carrots. She had a carbine modified for her size in hand, ears flat against her head. And eyes blazing. He lost himself for a moment, staring at the intensity gripping her. Every muscle was coiled, ready to move with a second's notice. A lightning burst of speed held in that small form._

 _She felt his gaze as her ear twitched. She leaned out of cover. Snapped off three shots. Ducked back behind the wall. "Smoke grenade," she said._

 _Nick passed it to her. As their fingers touched, the sound of low breathing reached him. He pulled her down, raised his 12.7mm hand-cannon and pulled the trigger thrice as her body left the line of fire. The hulking behemoth, a rhino with a wickedly long horn, grunted as his armour-piercing rounds ripped through both armour and hide. Three dull thuds followed. The explosive component of the bullets activating, ripping flesh and internal organs._

 _The rhino fell. Heavily._

 _A sizzling sound amidst the heavy droning of bullets. A grenade, he worried. Then the specialist smoke of his grenade reached his nose._

" _We need to move," Judy hissed, pulling him back down. Of course, she wouldn't stay down, letting him play the part of the protector. "Timberson, covering fire in three."_

" _Yes ma'am," the large wolf, coat of grey and black, said calmly._

" _Nick, you first." Judy pointed to the door left and a good fifteen metre run back. No cover at all. "Cover us as soon as you get through."_

 _He nodded, making sure his submachine-gun was strapped securely. "Yes, ma'am," he said, not snidely or sarcastically, but completely serious. She was the best when it came to combat. His talents lay in other areas._

" _Don't worry," she said, between firing another burst as Timberson reloaded, "We'll make it. One last time, Nick."_

" _One last," he agreed, wondering why a murder investigation had lead to this madness._

 **Chapter 1**

He leaned to the side, dodging the ball wheezing past him. Catching it as well. A nod to the young fox, fur a deep black, before throwing it back.

"Nice try," he said to the groaning kit. It was a game they played. "You were breathing too loud."

"I'll get you next time."

Nick ruffled the fox's head, enjoying the discontent on his face.

He gazed around as the kit ran back into the apartment, passing a heavily dressed antellope—gazelle, maybe, Nick was never too sure—on the way into the apartment building. The metal band around her neck was an interesting touch.

Zootopia was loud, day or night. A constant cacophony of sounds. The sky tram whooshing above. The deep beat of the club nearby heard only by animals with hearing as good as his own. The pitter-patter of the rodents slumming in the drain pipes below. Cars, honking and screeching as they sped by; drivers screaming in rage, muzzles contorted in terrifying expressions. A teen crying in the nearby window. The two husbands arguing as they made love; all snarls and chuffs and different species.

It was a mad place. The best and worst of mammals brought in a simmering pot of love and hate, bigotry and understanding, murder and peace, justice and corruption; all mixing and flowing and weaving into something beautiful.

This was the place he called home and he loved it more than anything else. But only one place he would call his den. Safe. A place to let the cynicism and jokes fade away, leaving behind only Nick Wilde at his most raw.

His apartment.

 _Our apartment_ , he amended, _now that Carrots' moved in_. _Monkeys, but that place had been a dump_ , he thought, remembering the place she had lived in prior. After seeing it for the first time he had simply started packing up her meagre possessions amidst her protests, packed them in the car and unpacked them in the guest room of his apartment.

His rather comfortable apartment.

A buzzing sound. His radio. Nick groaned, tapping the small button under his lapel.

"All units in the vicinity," came the calm voice of the radio dispatch officer, "we have a possible 10-90 occurring at 1955 Cypress Grove Lane." That was a domestic violence code.

Just his luck. "10-7, Dispatch?" he asked, hoping he heard wrong.

"195 Cypress Grove Lane.

"Dispatch, I'll take the call," he said because that was his apartment. "Officer Wilde, badge number: A-001297."

"10-4, Officer Wilde." A pause. "Aren't you off duty?"

Nick chuckled. "If this turns out to be nothing I get overtime for walking into my apartment. Any more information?"

He entered the apartment building, listening as dispatch provided the rather bare bones information available. He nodded to the elk receptionist behind his oak table, taking the gaudy elevator to the sixth floor where the disturbance was reported.

The red carpets padded his footfalls from near silent to non-existent. The white plaster walls had yet to be cleaned, scuff marks and scratch marks littering the walls, especially that one slice that looked to be from a wickedly sharp horn.

Apartment 614 was at the end of the hallway, just before the emergency fire exit to the left. The hallway was chilly, colder than it should have been. Someone probably left the window open when they went for a smoke.

He listened for a second outside the door. The Hiss of pressurised water from a faucet. The beeping of a fridge door left open too long. Nothing suspicious except the lack of breathing or movement. Removing his pistol sized tranquilizer gun, Nick knocked sharply on the door.

"ZPD," he said loudly. "We had a domestic disturbance call. Please open your door."

Nick waited a few more seconds. Nothing changed in the apartment, The faucet still ran. The fridge still beeped. But he could hear the neighbours approaching their doors.

"And the rest of you can stop being such nosy neighbours," he said slightly louder. "Unless you want to be held in for questioning."

That stopped them dead. It always did.

Cautiously, he opened the door. The scents of blood and copper assaulted his nose, hammering his olfactory glands. He avoided gagging as he entered. The apartment was dark, pale light streaming in from the large windows to the left. The kitchen sink where the faucet ran freely was to his left as well, alongside the dining area and lounge, separated by a series of steps and low walls.

He tapped his radio. "Dispatch, possibility of a 10-34; type unknown at the moment. Scent of blood coming from the bedroom," he said, approaching the door at the opposite end of the room. "Entering now."

"10-6, Officer Wilde." He quirked an eyebrow at the standby order. Waited patiently for thirty-two more seconds. "You may proceed, Officer Wilde. An EMT has been notified."

"10-4, Dispatch."

He opened the door, raising his gun as he entered quickly, ignoring the almost overpowering scent of blood. He took in the unmade bed across the room, the shattered full-length mirror to his right and the open door leading to a well-lit bathroom to the left. This he did subconsciously.

His waking mind was preoccupied with the bloody creature at the foot of the bed, nearly ripped in two. Nearly only because the spine was keeping the upper half connected to the lower. Blood still flowed and internal organs were visible; intestines hanging out and what looked to be a chunk of liver resting near the meerkat's hind paws.

Nick gulped. There was no way the meerkat was alive. There was a trail of blood leading from the bathroom. He took in the ripped chunk of wall, the dusting of wood chips on the floor and the flickering bathroom light. To his right, the drying station. To the left, the shower system. In the far-right corner was a toilet, seat raised.

Directly ahead in the large sink basin, resting on a free-floating granite platform, was another bloody form. He was careful to walk around the blood on the floor, noting his entry route in the process. Another shattered mirror above the basin, a deep gouge in the wall and a splatter of blood as well.

A dark form on the floor. Absently, he recognised it as the head of the meerkat. The blood was coming from the decapitated torso, the neck leaning over the basin and still leaving a trail of congealing blood.

He tapped the radio. "Dispatch, revising the 10-34 to a 10-26. Repeat: revising 10-34 to a 10-26. I'm going to need a coroner, forensics, and a homicide detective."

"10-4, Officer. Preserve the scene and record your entry path."

"10-4 dispatch. 10-4," he murmured.

He returned outside, taking care to use the same entry path and pulling out his phone to make an audio note of everything he currently knew of the case; the incident report time; likely time of the crime; the nature of the bodies; as well as recording his actions against a timestamp as best he could. His memory would deteriorate badly as time progressed.

Nick heard the sirens long before they parked. He reassured all the neighbours to stay in the apartments before they could think to do something stupid. The sheep coroner was the fist on the scene, dressed in white lab coat, face mask hanging around her neck and a tired expression on her face. He nearly flinched for a second as he remembered Bellwether.

Information was passed rapidly between them and she entered first as other police officers arrived, securing the scene. The next elevator disgorged a team of forensic technicians who went about the business. One carried the 3D imaging device, which would help analyse the scene.

Nick watched this with a detached air, leaning against the wall in a corner. Officer Wolford was the only person he recognised and the two shared a nod as Wolford approached him.

"I hear this is a sick one," the officer said grimly. Well, if Nick was being honest, Wolford was always grim. He hadn't yet seen him smile once.

"Yeah. One's got no head." He grimaced. "The other's nearly in half. Spine's the only thing keeping the body whole."

Wolford growled lowly. Nick didn't let it bother him despite instinct screaming at him to run. They might still be animals deep down, as Mr. Big pointed out, but that didn't mean they had to react like that.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Who's the detective on case?" Nick asked.

A shrug from Wolford. "Unknown. Homicide's bogged down with murders in the Rainforest District." Nick's ears perked up. "Yeah, at least five murderers operating at the same time and…" he paused, removed his phone after it buzzed and checked it for a moment. "Just found out, it's Detective Leo taking this. I'm going to need your statement."

Nick gave it with as much detail as he could as Wolford recorded it. After, he emailed Wolford his audio recording to cross-reference. Nick didn't want IA bothering him later for any reason.

By the time the detective arrived Nick was tired, eyes drooping. A pat on his shoulder woke him. He looked up. And then up again. Officer Leo, a lion in his physical prime, dressed in slacks and a jacket. His jacket was rumpled like he had used it as a pillow and his eyes bloodshot. The classic signs of an overworked detective.

"Nick," Leo greeted.

He stifled a yawn. "Leo. Good to see you. Not getting enough sleep."

"Rainforest's apparently decided to have a whole bunch of serial killers at the same time. Department' filled to capacity even though we've pulled people from the other precincts." The detective shook his head. "To be honest, we're just here to gather evidence and then shut the case."

"That bad," Nick said slowly. "And there's no one who can take this?" Four years ago, back before he met Carrots and joined ZPD, he would have been happy with the cops being to busy to bother him. Now, it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Well… you could." Nick startled. Leo chuckled. "I mean you've got the training and a few homicides under your belt."

Nick frowned. "I've got a mammal trafficking case, a child prostitution case and a new drug making the rounds in Savannah. And Bogo's breathing down my neck to finish them." He looked up. Saw the plea in Leo's eyes. Knew the argument was lost. "I've had six hours of sleep in the last four days dealing with illegal immigration."

"Francine and Delgado owe me a few favours," Leo replied. "And if I explain to Bogo, he'll allow the reassignment."

Nick groaned. He liked the cases he had. Because at the end of the day, solving them meant that lives were saved. Homicide meant people had already died. And whilst stopping a murderer was always good, stopping a mammal trafficking ring always felt better.

Calls were made. Threats were sent. Documents were signed.

Thirty minutes later, at 0137, Nicholas Wilde was the lead investigator in a homicide case. This would be his fourth case.

"Thanks, Nick," Leo said as he was leaving. "I'll write up a recommendation for you to join Homicide once you complete this case. Don't know why you didn't accept the last offer."

A deep breath to stop him shouting at the detective. Then Nick was entering the apartment again, ducking under the police tape.

Wolford was speaking to the coroner and a forensic technician. The wolf waved him over. "Hear you're the new lead."

"Yeah," Nick said. "How are we on evidence?" he asked the technician.

"Not good. I haven't seen a crime scene this clean in my life. You'd think with how brutal this was that there'd be more…" The technician shook his head. "Guy's a pro. Brutal but still a pro. We'll call if we find anything more."

Nick nodded, turned to the coroner, and asked, "The murder weapon?"

"Large bladed weapon," the sheep said, "with at least two blades. The distance between blades bears similarities to certain types of scythe."

"How far along are we with imaging?"

"Almost done, sir," the technician said. "This area's done. No more than twenty minutes for the bedroom. After that, we'll be removing all evidence."

Nick nodded, waved them away and then pulled out his phone and started recording. He would transcribe the audio in the morning. He stood in the kitchen, looking over the plates in the sink. They were small, sized for animals smaller than him. The footstool near the sink, with signs of scratches. Apparently, this apartment wasn't a first choice.

He opened the fridge and looked through it, taking a few photos. You could find out a lot of things about people by what they ate. There were a lot of artificial protein substitutes but none of the insects meerkats had evolved to eat. _Stigmatised, perhaps?_ A few alcoholic drinks and a few things suitable for herbivores. Closing the fridge, he caught sight of a picture hidden behind copious magnets holding up other papers. In it, the Meersons held each other, the male drinking water and the female alcohol. _So she was the one who drank_ , Nick noted. _And from the way she held him, she was the one who controlled the relationship._

The dining room table was the stock one provided with the apartment. Nick had one as well. There were boosters on two of the chairs, both facing down onto the lounge area. He stood there, taking a few pictures. _Apparently, they liked watching TV whilst they ate if the remote was any indication_. He switched it on from standby, recorded the channel number and quickly checked the viewing history. There were two shows they could have been watching, both of them popular; A Game of Serpents and The Primates, a fantastical take on what life would be like if primates hadn't gone extinct.

There was nothing special to note in the lounge because it seemed they rarely spent time there. A few pictures on the table; selfies that they had printed out but nothing special. They probably rarely had guests. _A reclusive couple? Maybe._

The guest bathroom was similarly unused, dusty from disuse. He searched the cabinets. Found them empty. Took a few photos. Walked out.

That left only the bedroom. He accepted the mask, extra gloves and plastic shoes from the technician nearby. The 3D imager was being removed and he let it pass before he entered. Both bodies had been removed, replaced by a 'chalk' outline. It was a special polymer powder but everyone called it chalk.

The shattered mirror meant someone was rather vain. There was a cupboard to the left, recessed into the wall that Nick opened. The lower drawer, the one they would easiest reach held a few articles of female clothing, mostly blue and black. Every other one was filled with male clothing including twelve separate pairs of shoes; more jackets than Nick could recognise and more suits than Nick thought were necessary. _The husband, then, was the vain one._ _The wife didn't care much for clothes. How odd._

Besides the dried blood the room was spotless. Even the wood was mildly reflective. The sheets were blue. A quick check in the linen closet revealed more sets of blue sheets and blankets. The wife had picked them out. Nick checked the tag. Silk. Expensive.

The bathroom held nothing interesting but he still took as many pictures from all angles. They never used the shower—it was too large for them. The basin had probably acted as their tub. Opening the wood drawer beneath it, he found bathrobes and slippers. He checked the records on the drying station. The last use had been around the time of the murder.

A picture quickly built in his head.

 _Mr. Meerson had been near, or perhaps on, the bed when the attacker had entered. Probably killed before he could realise it. Maybe the thud of the body had alerted the wife who left the bathroom._

Nick looked at the door, noting the chunk of wood missing.

 _The first strike of the assailant had broken part of the wall. Maybe it had missed Mrs. Thorson or maybe it had punted her straight across, and she crashed into the mirror, shattering it. Probably when she stood to escape the two blades had trapped her. Had she seen her attacker before she was decapitated? No, it's not important. Either way, she was decapitated, the blades leaving a long line in the wall in the process and the killer had escaped._

"This is going to be fun," Nick said. "Stopping a crazy psycho killer is just my thing."

Nick left the scene, letting forensics do what they needed. He was tired. Hungry. Maybe a bit sick. His apartment was on the eighth floor and he opened the door to it tiredly.

The smell of Judy and him and happy mingled together pleasantly. He inhaled it deeply, shrugging off his uniform and throwing it in the laundry. He stepped over Judy's carrot slippers absently and took a shower, letting all the dirt and grime and gloom wash away until all that ran were rivulets of clean water.

Drying up, he fell into bed and let exhaustion take him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **After watching Zootopia the first time I promised myself I would not write this fic. Apparently, I lied. Here are the codes used for your convenience. Please enjoy my first take on the mystery genre.**

 **10-90: Domestic Disturbance Code**

 **10-7: Verify address**

 **10-4: Acknowledgement**

 **10-34: Assault (in progress)**

 **10-6: Standby**

 **10-26: Homicide (past)**

 **Officer Timberson, who will be back, is voiced by Craig Fairbrass who did the voice acting for Gaz and Ghost in Call of Duty: Modern Warefare 1 and 2 respectively.**


	2. Chapter 2

_His limbs were tensed in preparation. A fifteen-metre dash between him and relative safety. No cover. No protection. But Nick was a fox and foxes were quick._

 _A paw brushed over his. Judy. "Three," she whispered, counting down with her fingers._

 _Time seemed to slow. His breathing became short, rapid, hyper-oxygenating in preparation. Her last finger descended like the executioner's axe._

 _"Mark!" she shouted._

 _Nick moved._

 _Four years of pure physical conditioning; long endurance runs; taxing high interval training and exhausting strength training came together in a single moment, and Nick_ moved _. He heard Judy and Timberson's weapons barking out a sharp retort against their armoured attackers as they covered him._

 _A flare of pain in his left arm. A bullet wound cutting through fur and flesh._ Unimportant _, he thought,_ I can still move _._

 _Nick continued, every sense working overtime as he ducked beneath a hail of bullets before they took his head, crashing into the steel door, and forcing it open. He caught himself before he could fully hit the ground, scrambling to the side and behind the cover of the steel wall._

 _He tapped his radio, patching into their private frequency. "I'm through," he said, panting harshly as he unstrapped the submachine gun, flicking off the safety. "Prepared to provide cover."_

" _Solid copy. Timberson, you're next."_

 _Nick's heart clenched. It should be her coming. It should be her safe behind the steel wall. But Timberson was the rookie and she would never leave him alone when enemies were approaching. Anything could go wrong and she was perhaps the best suited to react to it._

" _Yes, ma'am. Awaiting your order."_

" _Nick, covering fire in three seconds," Judy said strongly. "Timberson, get moving when he starts."_

 _Nick banished his worry. Shouldered his weapon. Prepared and counted down in his head._

 _On three, he leaned out, sighted down the holographic sight and found his first target. A panther wearing combat armour. Cheap, combat armour. He pulled the trigger and the submachine gun let out a burst of three armour piercing rounds. All three hit centre mass and all three penetrated through the armour. He fired another burst before the panther could focus on him, this time, higher up, near the thinner armour around the neck. The first two hit the thickly armoured chest. The last, though, punched clean through the panther's throat._

 _He aimed at the two wolves appearing out of cover to his right. Timberson, he noted, was halfway across,bounding as fast as his long longs would let him in a crouching run._

 _Nick pulled the trigger repeatedly, a stream of bullets forcing them behind cover. To the left, an armoured behemoth holding a machine gun like it was a pistol. Unfortunately, the mammal wore only a helmet with a Plexiglas visor. Nick fired twice, his rounds punching through the visor and spreading a stream of viscera across the glass._

 _He ducked back into cover as Timberson entered the door, pressing himself against the opposite side. The wolf reloaded as Nick switched on the radio. "Just you, Judy. We'll cover you."_

" _10-4," she acknowledged. "Wait for the smoke."_

 _He saw the door across from them, the one protected by enemies, spew forth more enemies. A tiger, a buffalo, and a leopard led two more wolves._

 _"Now, Judy!"_

 **Chapter 2**

His eyes opened and in a second he was alert. It was still dark but the moon was missing. Had it even risen? Nick checked the time. Twenty minutes too early to be up. He wasn't going back to sleep. Cursing, he rolled out of bed. Landed on all fours. Proceeded to do some press-ups. Police Academy had been taxing after over a decade out of high school. Captain of the track team he was not when he entered.

After that physical nightmare, working day and night and pushing himself to excel,—and excel he did, graduating valedictorian and breaking all previous records for the criminal investigation and interrogation courses—Nick had been informed that the Academy served as a baseline for 1st Precinct physicality.

'No self-respecting officer maintained such a low standard,' she had said coyly.

Seeing the physical regiment Bogo had given a rookie who had lost a perp had made him thank Judy for forcing him to keep up with her.

Now, no day went by without some form of exercise whether it was running, sprints, swimming or weights. Nick had forced himself to stick to his regimen almost religiously.

Fifteen minutes later and his alarm rang. Nick switched it off, stretching his muscles and throwing on his gym clothes before heading to the kitchen. Across his room was Judy's and he inhaled the scent of her sweat as she started with her pre-workout workout. It was... pleasant.

He walked down the short hallway to the shared living space. The kitchen was to his left whilst the lounge area was further ahead of that. To the right was the dining room table. The free wall near the table held a bookshelf, filled with books he had collected over the years. They covered a multitude of subjects; books on finance mingled with cookbooks; text books on criminal law shared space with books on amusement parks. There were history books as well. That was the top half.

The lower half was filled with Judy's terrible romance novels.

And they were terrible. Nick had read five of them once. At the end, he could say with complete certainty that they had the exact same plot and names just as unimaginative as the last. Though sometimes he imagined himself and… Nick shook his head before his body could produce those pheromones.

He brewed a pot of coffee. Took down his mug. Added three teaspoons of sugar. Waited for the coffee to boil and prepared Judy's cup. A beep and a few seconds later Nick was enjoying a cup of well-brewed coffee.

She appeared like a gust of the wind on a hot day. Everything about Judy Hopps held his attention in that single moment. Her ruffled fur. Those purple eyes. The drop of sweat running down her floppy ears. All of it served to strip him of all thought but her.

"You're up early," she said, breaking his attention. "You never wake up early."

Nick smirked. "What can I say? I'm a fox of many surprises." He handed her cup which she took gratefully.

"You dumb fox," she said, fondly, around a mouthful. He never understood how she drank hot coffee like that. "Buttering me up with this. Let me guess, you forgot to buy milk."

The fur on the back of his neck stood on end. He had forgotten. But he didn't let his smirk falter. "Well, I was busy yesterday. Not all of us can get away with driving around town."

He finished his cup, left it in the sink and followed Judy on the way out.

"Yeah, I heard about the homicide case." She bumped into him intentionally. "I thought you hated homicide cases."

Nick sighed, staying quiet as the elevator reached the ground floor. In the lobby, he spoke: "I do but there was no one else to take it. Department's full to capacity apparently."

The two walked to the gym just down the road, entering and heading to the treadmill machines. Soon the two were running and would be for another hour. Nick let his mind wander back to the case, reviewing the evidence impartially. It would help when he went to collect the coroner's full report and the evidence compiled by the forensics department.

He tilted his head. Judy had spoken. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

Judy scowled. Nick smirked. "I asked why you have all the books on amusement parks."

Nick hummed, increasing the pace. "Well, I guess I like them." A deep breath as the incline increased. "I mean, there was this one park my dad used to take me to. Hee took me there a few times—must have been twice. Mad Monkeys, was I young back then. That was before the… incident."

"Nick," Judy said softly.

He shook his head. "The past is a passed, Carrots. Doesn't matter anymore," he said, harsher than he intended.

She scoffed. "Well, you got grumpy as you aged, old man."

"I'm still in my physical prime," he retorted, "as you well know. Don't think I haven't seen you checking me out."

"You're full of yourself. Thirty-six is not physical prime. Soon you're going to need a cane."

He rolled his eyes, lowered the speed but increased the incline. "Har, Har, youngster. Make fun of Old Man Wilde, will you. My granddad always used to say that." Nick focused his eyes forward. "But yeah, after the incident my mum took me there whenever she managed to save some money. Dad had just gone missing down south, both my siblings were out of the house and Granddad was dead. Cancer. I guess she felt guilty, you know. She always hated it when Dad took me there. Never thought it was safe. After, we both remembered him there."

They spoke no more. A quick shower and they were in the squad car, modified for smaller mammals. Judy drove as she always did. A stop at Starbucks to refill on coffee—Nick with a larger than usual cup and Judy with her usual sugary concoction that wasn't really coffee—before they headed to the station.

The Zootopia Police Department 1st Precinct was imposing, tall yet aesthetically pleasing. Nick entered, swagger in full force, aviators displayed proudly and confident smirk out for the world to see. Benjamin Clawhauser was at his desk in the middle of the vast lobby, tiles sparkling and reflecting his red fur as they approached.

Ben looked up from his box of doughnuts, eyes lighting up and waved them over. Nick calmly slid over, Judy walking energetically ahead of him. He waved at Delgado, nodded to Francine before leaning against Ben's desk.

Judy and Ben exchanged the usual pleasantries; discussions of the previous day, the latest Gazelle gossip and their current status on the dating market. Nick held back a growl.

"Bogo's has a new assignment for you," Clawhauser said to Judy. "New recruit. Timberson. He's still being debriefed by Chief."

"Baby sitting duty," Nick said, smiling coyly at Judy. "Are those maternity instincts kicking in?"

She punched him, hard, on his shoulder. Nick held back a wince, having become used to her deceptive strength. But that was Judy; fast, strong and smart enough to keep up with him.

"You're insufferable."

"You suffer me," he replied. "So I can't be all bad."

She huffed. "You really are."

Their banter was stopped by The Chief's Door opening. The sound of that door opening was special, capable of echoing across the entire precinct with ease and it always heralded the Chief's thundering footfalls. The entire lobby fell silent, watching anxiously as a large wolf stepped out followed by the Chief. His eyes seemed to smoulder as he scanned the lobby.

Bogo pointed straight at Judy. "Hopps," he said, "The new guy's yours. Deal."

"Yes, sir," she replied, raising to her full height.

Then Chief Bogo saw Nick and all the breath left his body. "Wilde, get your arse up here." Bogo turned. "And take off those damned glasses indoors."

Nick took a deep breath once Bogo retreated back to his sanctuary. He glanced at Clawhauser who seemed completely unperturbed by the Chief's actions as usual.

"Wish me luck," Nick muttered before walking down the Route, the only way to reach the Chief's office.

Glasses off, he entered. It was always struck him how plain the Chief's office was. The same cheap carpet. A battered and worn wooden desk. Cheap filling cabinets against the left wall. The ZPD badge directly behind his chair; on either side were awards and a picture of Bogo together with Detective Leo.

Nick took a seat and waited for Bogo to say something.

Eventually, Bogo sighed. "I thought you hated homicide cases. You've turned down the last two offers to join them and then Detective Leo calls in a favour to have you take the case." Chief leaned forward. "Explain."

"Sir, I don't like homicide, plain and simple. But I don't like it when cases, where someone's decapitated, go unanswered." He shook his head, the scene still vivid. "And apparently, Homicide's so busy they can't spare even a junior investigator. I just couldn't leave it like that."

The Chief stared him down for a long, long time. Then he leaned back, resting he massive elbows on the table.

"Wilde, after this you either accept the assignment to Senior Detective of Narcotics or you accept Homicide's offer." Nick's ears flattened. "Look, Nick, even I have bosses and they're wondering why we still have you amongst the general forces. Your success rate is... admirable."

Nick scowled. "Ninety-four percent is not admirable."

"You're right. That's what my bosses said. Since you started four years ago you've completed a total of one-hundred-thirty-four cases related to drug busts, mammal trafficking and slavery, organised kidnapping and four homicide cases. You hold the record for third highest successful cases in the same time-frame."

A mild smirk. "You don't have to stop complimenting me, Chief." He raised his hands, placating, before Bogo did anything. "But I understand. I'll take the assignment with Forensics after this last ride."

Chief Bogo nodded. "Now get out and complete this case."

Nick stood. Saluted. Left and made his way down.

And then wished he didn't. The feeling of being watched was something Nick developed in his younger days. Right now every sense was screaming at him to run and hide somewhere. An inhale and the scent of those watching him filled his nostrils.

He forced a cocky smile on. _Never let them see they get to you_ , he thought,then turned.

There were three of them decked out in combat armour. TUSK was stencilled across the centre of their chest pieces. All of them looked hardened, scars and buzz cuts prominent. He could see the weapons littered across their bodies. The three warthogs were members of the Razorbacks Unit, the most elite capture and containment unit in Zootopia. They had a 99% success rate.

And they hated Nick because he was that one percent.

"Wilde," the lead one said gruffly, every muscle strained. The lobby had fallen silent and heads were turned.

"Antonio. Brutus. Caesar." He nodded to each in turn as if they were friends. "How's the success rate?"

They closed the distance, each moving in sync. Nick tilted his head, not even leaning back. He wouldn't let them see how much they intimated him.

"One day you'll slip up," Antonio promised. "And we'll hunt you down on that day."

Nick chuckled. "First, you should hunt down some breath mints. Now, I have some real work to do so why don't you go back to being irrelevant."

A second of intimidating glares. "Let's go. We're coming for you, Wilde."

Nick waved them off, smirking. Then he walked over to Clawhauser, took a doughnut and ate it as if he hadn't been stared down by the unit most feared by the criminal elements in the city. Ben, at least, had the tact not to say anything until the other mammals went about their business.

A chubby finger tapped his shoulder. "Yes, Ben," Nick said.

"O. M. Goodness. Those were the Razorbacks and you just stared them down," the cheetah replied, awe evident in his voice.

"I noticed. I was there."

"What's the story there? The betting pool needs an answer."

Nick startled. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ben rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows they have it out for you. We've been making bets on what you did."

A sigh because Ben always made bets. "Well, you guys can keep wondering because I'm not telling."

"Please."

Ignoring him, Nick walked away. The Medical Examiner assigned to his case was in the morgue when Nick found her. The bodies of the Meersons was had been removed from the cubicles, a plastic sheet covering them.

He ignored the smell of antisceptic, decay, and death that always lingered as best he could.

The ME wasted no time with niceties. "What we know so far is that the male was killed first based on the oxygen content of the blood." That fit with Nick's hypothesis. "Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the chest." The ME pulled back the plastic, pointing to a long purple bruise.

"We're assuming that the blunt side of the murder weapon was used. The disembowelment was done after the wife was killed. Looking at evidence Forensics complied, we can say with almost complete certainty that the murder weapon had two blades based on the damage to the walls. The lower blade is almost certainly longer than the higher one."

Nick hummed. "Ritualistic murder?" he asked.

"Possibly. You'll have to check whether the History department has anything." The ME shook her head. "The wife died from decapitation. The full report has been sent to your network partition. Forensic's sent whatever data they have at the moment."

Nick nodded. "Thank you."

It took him only a few minutes to requisition a squad car and then Nick was driving at a sedated pace back to the apartment building. There was no need to rush at this point. There, he headed for security, flashed his badge and took over the security desk from a tired looking ram.

Then he settled down to review the apartment's security footage. He started in the hour before the death, splitting the screen to accommodate the relevant security feeds. Ten minutes later after accelerating the footage Nick had found nothing.

He frowned and moved it forward until the time he entered the building. That's when he noticed the same fox cub that threw the ball entering the building with his mother. For the second time.

Nick pulled out his phone and called Delgado, the lion who specialised in computer systems and cyber-warfare. It rang twice before it was picked.

"Officer Delgado of ZPD speaking."

"Hey, Delgado, it's Wilde. I need you to check a security feed for tampering. Give me a moment to send you the partition code."

He did so, waited for Delgado's confirmation and cut the line. The lion would call back when he was done.

Nick only needed to wait five minutes.

"Yeah, feed's been spliced. A pro did this."

Nick growled. "That's a dead end then."

"It gets worse. The traffic cameras in a one-block radius were hacked as well. And considering how much traffic there is in the area…"

"Getting a positive ID will be impossible," Nick finished off. "Could the cameras have been hacked off-site?"

"Ours? No. They'd have to do it all on site. Sending you cell location now."

The coordinates were received. The traffic cameras were decentralised, sending security first to a central security system for each few cells before compiling them to the Central Directory. It made it impossible for all footage to be wiped.

Nick headed to the camera location first before the cell. It was at an intersection. He checked it for tampering. Found nothing. He still flagged it down for urgent inspection by the camera operators.

The Cell for this area was placed in a corner between two buildings, fenced off by and completely open to the public. Anyone could climb that fence. The graffiti there was prominent. Nick checked the camera watching the area. Blacked out by cheap graffiti. He shook his head before sending another urgent flag to the operators. As well as a recommendation for everyone involved in maintenance to be demoted.

He took pictures of the area. The graffiti wasn't anything special; some attempts at anarchist paintings; multiple gang marks though the one for the 10th Street Blues was odd since they were based in Tundratown; a caption saying 'Bellwether was right' and finally a coiling serpent in red.

Nick approached the security box. The signs of a violent opening were evident. Something glinted on the floor and Nick knelt, removed tweezers from his pouch and lifted the piece of metal. It curved, reflecting the light.

 _The murder weapon, maybe? No, don't make that assumption. It might be a piece of the lock or whatever was used to force open the security box._

He placed the piece of metal in a plastic bag. Then he put on a pair of gloves and opened the box. The black box, usually closed and defended with multiple security systems, was open with wires pooling out.

A call to Delgado.

"Hey," Nick said, "I think Cy-crimes might want to check this out. And call Forensics as well."

An hour later after Cyber Crimes and Forensics had arrived, taking whatever evidence they could, Nick found himself in the Meersons apartment. It looked different in the day. Less stereotypical crime scene and more a place where people actually lived.

He walked through it once more, recording his thoughts as they appeared no matter how ridiculous they were.

 _The husband was the one who cooked if the wider scratch marks on the stool were correct._ One part of the wood on theopposite counter was worn. _Had she enjoyed watching him cook? The knives in the drawer showed signs of extensive use but they were poorly taken care of. The ones in the knife board were meticulously cared for with no chips._

Two were missing _._ Nick checked the sink. There they were. Remnants of the protein substitutes were present on one.

 _So they ate before they showered._

Nick walked down the hallway leading to their room. There were scratch marks on the left side. They led from the bedroom to the lounge. _Late night TV?_ He followed the barely there scuff marks to the wall the TV was mounted.

He frowned because something was very wrong. He removed his phone and checked the phone for ownership information. The Meersons owned the apartment so they could modify it.

Nick knelt. From here, the TV was uncomfortably high. So no, it wouldn't be TV they were watching. He tapped the walls as he crawled. Nothing out of the ordinary but it still bothered. He walked back to the start of the corridor and tapped on both sides. There. The walls were different. Plaster on the left side where the lounge was.

 _False wall?_ _A very good one_.

He knocked until he found the place where the sound changed. Then Nick poked around until he found the latch.

A part of the wall silently slid open. _Oh, I'm good._

Torchlight on, Nick pulled the small box there. It wasn't locked and he unlatched it.

At the very top was a picture. Of the Meersons. Who were very naked. The next was a group shot of them with some other mammals from rhinos to pigs and everything in between. The last one was of the Meersons with an elephant, an antelope subspecies, and a rhino. The elephant looked very familiar but he couldn't place it.

And right at the bottom was a black card. Written prominently in gold were three words:

 _Mystic Spring Oasis._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **I should note that this is my first attempt at a detective or mystery novel. If they're any problems, please tell me.**

 **Next chapter will probably be out next week.**

 **The Razorbacks were characters in the original storyline of Zootopia before the story went through massive changes.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Six enemies entering. Two already behind cover. An armoured behemoth currently reloading its weapon._

 _Judy was right in the centre of that with barely any cover to protect her._

 _The smoke emitted from her grenade was slowly covering the area. But most of those enemies had better vision in low visibility that Judy._

" _Now, Judy," he shouted once more._

 _Timberson fired first. The loud retort of his assault rifle in automatic deafening, the flash blinding his right eye._

 _It didn't matter. Judy was in danger. In the face of that, temporary blindness was nothing._

 _In a second he had switched orientation, the stock resting against his left shoulder. He sighted. Found an enemy without a helmet. Pulled the trigger. The kick aggravated his old injury, almost sending the spray off target, but the three round burst found their target; blood blooming in a gush from the throat; the jaw-shattering with the second; an eye pulping with the third. That was a very dead wolf.  
_

" _Flash out," he heard from beside him._

 _Nick pulled back and shut his eyes. The bang of the grenade hit him before the high-frequency whine was emitted, deafening him. Ears ring, Nick popped back out of cover.  
_

 _Judy was moving, crossing the distance rapidly._

 _There was an enemy that was disorientated and out of cover, hunched over and clutching its ears. Nick pulled the trigger, once, then twice as Judy slid through the door beneath them._

" _Closing," Timberson said loudly._

 _Nick pulled back as Thorson slammed the door shut, loud bangs from bullets hitting the door._

 **Chapter 3**

Nick hadn't been present to watch the suspects be brought in, too busy as he was reviewing the scant evidence and reviewing prior cases like this. The Zootopia History Department had been kind enough to loan him an old tome, bound in red dyed snakeskin.

Apparently, people had enjoyed ritualistic murder before the Ascension Era because every third page was a new murder. He left the book in the hands of a rookie who owed him a favour and told him to search for any matches.

As it stood the thirty suspects had been separated as best the precinct could manage. Nick watched the behind the one-way glass, Officer Swinton who was on loan to the precinct on one side and Officer Fangmeyer, a large tiger, on the other.

Inside the interrogation room was one of the suspects, a rhino who had featured prominently in the Meerson's photos, looking around nervously. Anna Hoofsdottir was not someone who looked like a hardened criminal.

But then some rarely did.

"These three are mine," Nick said to the two officers, referring to the mammals that had appeared the most in the pictures.

Fangmeyer chuffed deeply. "The rest?" the tigress asked.

"Probably not our murderer. Have the boys in Interrogation deal with them."

"That's a terrible work ethic," Swinton said.

Nick glanced at the pig. Rolled his eyes. Answered, "Look, I don't know how you do it over at the prison and I personally don't care. But I've slept a grand total of ten hours in the last five days. And I am not wasting my time on people not directly involved with the victims."

The pig huffed. Nick waved her away and entered the room.

The room was medium sized; a good five by five metres and probably unbearably small to the rhino opposite Nick. He took in the plaid shirt and tan slacks, both of them showing a startling lack of femininity. The rhino had a few minor scars and deep grooves in her skin and a lack of any sort of jewellery.

 _Lower middle-class income, definitely_. _Unable to afford better skin care? Indifferent to appearance?_

Nick let those thoughts fade to the background. He placed a recording device on the table. It would transfer the audio in real-time just in case the rhino smashed it.

"Do you understand why you're here?" he asked, one of the legal requirements surrounding interrogation. The rhino nodded. "Do you understand that this session is being recorded and can be used to prosecute you?" Another nod. "I'm going to need you to verbally answer."

"Yes," the rhino said in small, timid voice. "I understand."

Nick nodded. "The time is"—he checked the clock behind him—"Sixteen hundred hours and forty-two minutes. Officer Nicholas Piberius Wilde, badge number of A-001297, conducting the interrogation. Verbal confirmation has been given. Beginning interrogation," he recited formally.

Legally speaking, for an interrogation to be admissible in court, verbal confirmation had to be given during the interrogation by the mammal to be interrogated. Anything said before or after the official interrogation was inadmissible in court. Considering the number of mammals falsely imprisoned due to torture—both of the physical and psychological—the Interrogation Protection Act was for the best.

"Please state your name and current address for the record," Nick said, tone intentionally bored as if all he wanted to do was throw her in a jail cell and be done with it. More often than not it worked.

"Anna Hoofsdottir," she said then gave her home address. "You don't think I killed the Meersons, do you?"

Nick hummed noncommittally. "Please explain your relationship to the murder victims, Jacob and Rita Meerson."

"They were members of the Mystic Spring Oasis."

"Of which, you were also a member?" A positive answer. "What was the nature of this Mystic Spring Oasis?"

The interrogation continued like this for a long while; questions on her work affiliations mixing with queries of her whereabouts during the murder.

"Were you watching anything on TV at the time of the murder?"

"I think it was… Keeping Up With the Koaladashians. Yeah, it was definitely that."

Nick didn't allow himself a reaction. "Last question: what did you eat this morning?"

The rhino startled and blinked. "Eating. What does that have to do with this?"

"Are you officially refusing to answer the question as is your legal right as a citizen of this nation?"

A grimace from Hoofsdottir. "No, sir. I… I don't remember."

"Thank you." He stood. "The interrogation is concluded at eighteen hundred hours and one minute. Anything you say after this cannot be used against you in a court of law. So even if you admit to the crime the video recording is inadmissible in court. A transcript of this interview will be provided in the event you wish to officially amend your statement."

Nick left, breathing out deeply as soon as he was out of sight. Interrogations were always difficult. The hardest part was not jumping to conclusions.

He entered the second interrogation room. Inside was an elephant with markings on her trunk. He recognised them from some part of the country to the far west.

"Please state your name for the record," Nick said, keeping his attention on the space between her eyes.

"Nangi Chopra," the elephant said, completely unashamed of her nudity. She had been stretching, a snake pose if Nick remembered, and now barely paid him any attention. "Now hurry this so I can return to meditating."

"Please explain your relationship to the victims, Jacob and Rita Meerson."

The elephant glared at him, not balefully but with the air of one completely annoyed with being disturbed. "I don't know of these Meersons you speak of."

Nick simply showed her a picture of the two. He hadn't forgotten her unhelpfulness four years ago.

"Ah, meerkats. They may have been in my class. They may have come to the Oasis. I do not know and I do not care."

"Really now," Nick mumbled. "How long have you worked at the Mystic Spring Oasis?"

"Seven, eight years."

 _Eight years and three months_ , Nick thought but he didn't say that.

"Please explain your family structure?"

The elephant paused, almost imperceptible. "Mother, father, both deceased. Killed during the Third Refusal War. No siblings."

"How did you manage to survive?"

"They smuggled me out before the war began," Nangi replied. "Mother sent me with her sibling to Zootopia."

"How old were you and how much of the conflict had you seen?"

"Seven years old. Three months."

"I see," Nick mumbled and continued to ask her questions.

Her memories were vague after the war. But the few questions relating to it were answered perfectly.

"Last two questions: what show were you watching at the time of the murder?"

"Primates," she said, rolling her eyes. "Or maybe whatever other garbage the media industry churns out."

"Last question: what did you have for breakfast this morning?"

The elephant shrugged expansively. "Sugarcane."

The final suspect was asleep when Nick walked in. He coughed loudly. Then once more. The antelope subspecies, an impala if the report was correct, stirred from her rest.

"Yes, is it time?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Her smile was cute.

Nick repeated the process once more.

"Please state your name for the record?"

"Cane," she replied. She was dressed in expensive looking clothes, a black coat over a red dress.

He sighed. "Full name please."

"Juliet Kelly Cane."

"Please explain your relationship to the victims, Jacob and Rita Meerson."

"They were… friends, I guess. Rather nice people. Came to the Oasis a few times a month. Jacob was really quiet. Rita was the talkative one."

He found he liked her.

"What do you remember about the fashion sense?" he asked, pushing away the vague feeling of affection. There was something almost paternal about it.

"Fashion sense?" Nick nodded. "Well, Rita didn't have one. I swear she wore only one outfit: dark and dreary. Jacob though, he loved his clothes. Odd that he was a Naturalist as well but I guess people are weird."

"How long have you been at the Mystic Palm Oasis?"

"About eight years now. Fun place. You should come sometime."

"I think I'll pass, ma'am."

Time passed as more questions were asked.

Finally: "What were you watching at the time of the murder?"

The impala tilted her head. "It was around ten, right. I was definitely watching Game of Serpents. Never miss an episode."

"Last question: What did you eat this morning?"

"Berries and an energy shake."

Nick sat in his office, gained after a string of successful drug busts, and rubbing at his eyes. The specially made chair was comfortable, tailored to someone of his height. Dozens of papers littered his desk; transcripts from the interrogation; photos of the murder scene and the tampered security box; physical copies of his audio notes, and a list of the evidence Forensics managed to obtain.

He grabbed the transcript for the Hoofsdottir interrogation as the door opened. Nick looked up and saw Detective Leo entering looking better rested. Hic clothes were ironed and the mild odour he carried was gone. Nick doubted he looked half as good.

"Hey, Nick." Leo took the other available seat, tailored to larger mammals. "Hear you finished with the interrogation. Found anything?"

"Other than our three prime suspects being very normal mammals? No." A deep breath before continuing. "Look, pick a high school prom queen, age her by a decade and you get Juliet Cane. A few lessons in martial arts and the usual nonsense rich parents spend on their kids. I'd say she's too normal except she's a Naturalist. Parents are rich and left her a rather generous trust fund. A few minor crimes; DUI here and shoplifting there. You have no idea how difficult it was getting her juvie record unsealed."

 _And she got both my questions correct_ , Nick thinks.

"So we have a maladjusted rich heiress as a suspect." Leo chuckled sardonically. "What about the elephant?"

"Nangi Chopra. Mr so terrible I almost feel sorry for her. Besides her very early history nothing stands out," Nick said. "Parents fought in the Third Refusal War and she saw the first few months of that before being smuggled out."

Leo sighed loudly. "Monkeys, but that was a terrible one. Six years of fighting and we suffered our greatest military defeat." He shook his head. "How many dead? A few million. And we still haven't retaken those territories."

"After that her memories are terrible. I'd need to ask as a psychologist but I'm pretty sure she saw some things that stunted her long term memory after that. Remembered what she watched last night well enough. The uncle who smuggled her over died a few years later. She started teaching yoga classes. Even started up her own business before the crash of '42 hit hard." Nick took a sip of his cold coffee. "And that leads us to Anna Hoofsdottir.

"Everything about her says middle class. Lower middle class to be specific. Of the three she's the most likely to be able to commit the murder. A history in IT in high school. Took part in a few competitions leading to a scholarship at UZ studying computer systems and specialising in encryption-decryption. She was kicked out in her fifth year for violent conduct. After that, consulting work. Racked up a few assault warnings. Two restraining orders but no charges were brought up against her after that. Her record's been spotless in the last three years."

"Don't think it's her?" Leo asked, incredulous.

"Her crimes were all emotionally driven assaults. If she committed a murder it would be a crime of passion. Involuntary Mammalslaughter, perhaps, but not premeditated murder. And the records show that each assault was against former members of her university. Witness reports indicate that the student, invariably, taunted Ms Hoofsdottir."

He reached for his mug. Felt how light it was. Set it down.

"What brings you here?" Nick asked.

"Just came to check in on our future homicide detective," Leo said, smiling broadly. A joke. "But really, I was just in the precinct. We brought in a suspect in one of the killings. Profile's a great match."

"Good for you," Nick muttered bitterly. "Can I hand the case back over to you now?"

"Nick, we found one suspect linked to one killer. We're almost certain that there are another six, possibly more, still going around and murdering innocent people. You should see what the news is saying."

"I don't read that stuff," Nick said, standing. "Most of it is garbage."

Leo stood as well and followed Nick outside his office. The corridor was filled with officers, mammals leaving their shift and others coming to replace them.

"You're leaving?" Leo asked. Nick nodded. "But…"

Nick's glare was intense. "Ten hours of sleep. Five days. I am going home because I _can't_ search their homes until a warrant is produced. I've got a few rookies monitoring the area and the cameras are set to notify me if anyone enters their apartments."

Leo raised his hands. "Alright. Just calm down already. You don't have to shout."

That's when he felt how hoarse his throat was. The subtle glances from the officers in the area. The artificial slowness in the flow of mammals. This was a scene, and if he left it at that then he would lose. Nick hated losing.

Nick waved, forcing a smirk. "See you sometime, then." Nick turned and walked away. Then he stopped. "Oh, and I turned down Homicide. I think I'll join Narcotics." One last parting insult.

He took a taxi home. A squad car was in the parking lot. Judy. He trudged into his apartment, looked around and didn't find Judy in their shared space. Sleeping? Nick checked his phone. 0220.

Shaking his head, Nick collapsed onto his bed, fading into a deep sleep.

The music of his alarm, a violent death metal song, woke him up and whatever remnants of his dreams there might have been vanished. He stared at it and Cursed Bogo and his ridiculous expectations, the changed into a clean set of clothes.

Judy was gone by the time he left. There was a note on the fridge that read:

 _Don't think I won't know if you slack off._

 _-Judy._

A fond smile. "If you say so, Carrots."

He didn't bother with the exercise today. She wouldn't know. There was a slice of blueberry pie in the fridge. He ate it then saw some fish. He ate that as well along with three cups of coffee.

Breakfast done, Nick found his last clean uniform. He threw the other two in the laundry. Then he checked his equipment pouches. The tranquillizer pistol was secure as was his service pistol, holstered against his leg. The handcuffs, three of them and of variable sizes were next to his stun baton. The taser was holstered against his side.

He checked his fur, smoothing out a few stubborn tufts before combing over a scar on his neck. That done, Nick went outside.

He stopped dead at the sight of Judy casually leaning against the patrol car. She was smirking, head cocked and posture exuding arrogance.

"I told you I'd notice, dumb fox."

Nick smiled and walked over to her. "Sly bunny. You're getting good at this." Then he patted her head much to her ire. "I'm such a greater teacher, aren't I?

She swatted his paw away. "You're a narcissist is what you are."

A shrug. "Well, who wouldn't love this fine specimen ofbesides,fox?" He sniffed. "Why do I smell wolf?"

"I got myself a new partner." His heart stopped as she pointed at the new officer in the back seat engrossed in his tablet. "Younger. More athletic. I don't know what I ever saw in you."

He choked on his spit and put on his best smirk. "Well, experience always wins over youth," he said indifferently.

Judy lost the smug look, worry overtaking it. She placed a paw on his arm. "Nick, I was joking. Please don't get upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Your tail only twitches like that when you're upset." He cocked his head. "And you only do that when you want people to think they're idiots. Look, Nick, you're my only partner. You're my dumb fox."

Something churned in the pit of his stomach. "And you're my sly bunny." His smirk became a bit more honest. "So, did you wait out just to see little, old me."

"Old? Most definitely." He rolled his eyes. "But we have your search warrants. So come on, let's go."

Nick took his customary passenger seat. Well, it wasn't like the lumbering wolf behind was small enough to fit in the front. He glanced at Judy when the wolf didn't register his presence. "Um?"

She shook her head. "Timberson!"

The wolf started. Said, "Yes, ma'am." Then he noticed Nick. "Morning, sir. Officer Timberson reporting for duty."

"You can call me Nick."

Timberson nodded. "Of course, sir."

A glance to Judy. "Is he always like this?" She just sighed and started up the car. "What did you specialise in?"

"Historical murders, statistical analysis and urban combat, sir," Timberson answered easily. "You know, solving the Night Howler case was a statistical anomaly."

Nick's ears quirked. "Well, I am a statistical anomaly."

Judy huffed. "Please don't inflate his ego any further. He might just fly away. Where to first?"

"Nangi Chopra."

Nick walked through their third apartment of the day, that of Anna Hoofsdottir located in Savannah District. It was a small thing. Relatively speaking. Everything about it looked supersized to Nick. The counters were nearly double the height of those in his apartment. The kitchen was larger than his bedroom whilst the lounge was the size of his entire apartment.

Nick's apartment was not small. Twenty years of hustling meant he had the money for a larger than usual apartment.

He popped a blueberry in his mouth. Sweet and juicy. "What do you think, Carrots?"

The rabbit in question was searching through the lounge cabinets. "I think you should stop eating those blueberries. Honestly, I can't believe you actually took them. Do you understand how unprofessional that it?"

Nick shrugged, searching through the kitchen cabinets for anything incriminating. "Probably illegal. And if Ms Chopra didn't want people eating them she shouldn't have left them unattended." There wee the usual pots, pans and cooking utensils in the cabinets.

"You brought her in for questioning," she replied.

"Technically not me."

Judy huffed. "Timberson, back me up here."

The wolf, who apparently had no training in searching a house, was leaning against the doorframe. He shot Judy a look. "I would prefer not to interfere, ma'am."

Nick smirked. "Good mammal." Nick walked down the wide corridor, taking in everything about Anna Hoofsdottir. There were a few certificates from technical colleges, awards in programming and a picture of her in high school.

He popped another blueberry, swallowing it before chewing. A moment later he gagged. "That one's rotten," he muttered.

Her bedroom door was ajar and Nick entered. Her bed was situated in the very centre and looked cheap. Cabinets lined one wall. He opened each door in turn. Clothes in most of them. Nothing special. The last one was filled with a few odds and ends; a hockey stick that looked battered; a photo album, and a printer.

In addition, there was a scratching pick, a device large and tough-hided mammals used to scratch hard to reach places. Two picks, one above the other and each curved. The usually blunt picks looked to have been sharpened. He had seen a few with blades that sharp before. What made it interesting was the chip in the lower blade.

"Timberson, get the technician in here," Nick said loudly. An affirmative from the wolf and a minute later a forensic technician appeared. "We might have a murder weapon here." He pointed at the pick and let the technician work.

On a whim, Nick took the photo album with him to the lounge. Judy was still there. He set the album on a table, knowing she understood, and together the two of them looked through it.

"What's so special about this?" Judy asked as they flipped the page past the ones of Anna Hoofsdottir as a baby.

"It's a photo album," Nick said. "Who still has physical photo albums? And I mean she works in IT. She has a scanner in her room."

Judy shrugged. Pictures of Anna in high school with some of her friends. A kudu featured prominently.

"She might just be sentimental," Judy reasoned. "Lots of people are."

"Maybe. Or maybe we'll find something here. Wait, stop," he said suddenly, pointing at a picture of Anna with a kudu. "I know that symbol." Both of them wore black shirts, a blue lightning bolt with the words '10th Street' written under it, standing as they were on a concrete floor with a coiling red shape.

"What's special about it?"

"Those are the 10th Street Blues. You don't wear that shirt if you're not initiated. Do that and you get a bullet to the muzzle. If you're lucky and they don't have time for something more elaborate."

He stood and bounded back to the photo in the corridor. The kudu was in the picture as well and both wore hockey uniforms. Nick took it down and brought it to Judy. With an ease born of practice, Nick removed the frame and quickly searched for a groove. At the bottom, hidden as a scuff mark. He pried it apart and something clear fell out.

Judy caught it before it could hit the table. She held it up to the light. "This looks like a glass-drive," she said. "And a good one." She tilted it till it caught the light. "Five stage Micro-Fox encryption."

Nick frowned. That was some of the best encryption a civilian could legally lay their hands. He took the photo and flipped it over. There were depressions almost imperceptible.

"UV light please." She handed it over and he flicked the small torch on. Immediately he could make out writing. "Cyber's going to have a field day going over this. Honestly, who's dumb enough to leave their encryption key lying around this obviously?"

"Someone who's never committed a crime before," Judy suggested.

He moved to reply. Instead, his radio crackled. Nick answered it.

"All units, 10-34 in Savannah District Cell 12. The perpetrator, an antelope subspecies, is fleeing the scene of the crime headed northbound."

He glanced at Judy. Saw her nod. "10-4 dispatch. Officers Wilde, Hopps and Timberson responding to call." He shut off the radio. "Timberson, get your tail here," Nick said, louder.

They moved quickly, taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Nick arrived first, set up the car's radio just and Judy and Timberson entered. In a second the car was moving, sirens wailing and tires screeching from the punishment. Nick grabbed a tactical vest, tossing another, much larger one, to the wolf behind him.

"Take the next left," the voice of the dispatch officer said.

Judy did so. Nick saw the wall separating Tundratown and Savannah Central. But he didn't see the suspect.

"Please advice, dispatch," he said.

"Suspect entered the warehouse on the corner of 1st and 44th. Unable to monitor at this time. Be advised that the suspect is armed and extremely dangerous. All available police officers are forming a three block radius cordon on either side of the wall."

Judy parked and Nick opened the boot. Inside was an array of weapons from tranquillizer guns to heavier weapons. He handed Timberson the largest rifle, the only that could fit the large wolf. It was modified with a pistol containing tranquillizers. A quick swap from lethal to non-lethal and back again.

The warehouse was old, abandoned, and the entrance was covered by a plastic flap. Broken windows on both floors, each covered up by wooden panels, and graffiti on every wall from gang markings to coiling red shape. The apartment had seen better years.

A hand signal from Judy and Timberson moved up first. He stacked up against the wall and both Nick and Judy did the same behind him, Nick with his tranquillizer and Judy with a semi-automatic pistol.

Timberson moved in, covering the right. Nick followed right behind, sweeping left and up whilst taking in the area. It was just as dilapidated on the inside as the exterior if not worse. Once, there might have been gleaming wooden racks housing their wares. Now everything was crumbling or broken. The smells of rot and stagnant air was pervasive.

There were too many areas of cover for this place to be safe. He signalled—much more effectively than during the Night Howler Incident—to Timberson. The wolf instantly moved towards the right wall as they circled the first row of stacks.

He felt a paw on his elbow. Judy, following near blind in the dark. Both Nick and Timberson had excellent night vision. Switching on their torches would blind both for a long time. So she would have to follow like this.

And besides, the suspect also had terrible night vision.

Nick tilted around. Saw Timberson give an all clear sign from his side. Moved to the next stack.

Light flooded the building. His dilated pupils, adjusted to low light environments, took in every shred of light. Nearly blind, Nick stumbled back just as loud music started playing. He twisted in all directions, trying to make sense of the sensory overload.

A paw on his elbow steadied. He blinked rapidly, clearing out the bright spots in his vision. Sound also came back slowly. Judy was shouting.

"Step back," she said. Nick made out a bleary shape across from him moving back. Timberson, maybe? Then he saw another shape, this one swinging something. Was Judy giving instructions? He couldn't tell.

"Fire," she shouted and there was the loud retort of a rifle firing. Definitely Timberson she was giving instructions.

He could make it out a bit better now. There was an antelope dressed in dark clothing, horns twisting wickedly and a long metal weapon that she was swinging. Double bladed, one shorter than the other, and each of those blades looked extremely sharp.

Timberson was dodging each swing of the blade—part Judy's orders, part instinct and part training—that seemed to move like silver lightning. Nick could barely follow a single swing.

He heard the sound of a weapon discharging from beside him. Judy firing her weapon. The antelope stumbled back.

Then Nick raised his tranquillizer gun, aimed despite the ringing in his ears, and pulled the trigger. One moment the dart was travelling through the air to the antelope. In the next the antelope was gone, having crossed the short distance between it and Timberson.

The weapon came down, an executioner's blade with Timberson's name written on it. It was too late for Nick to do anything, even shout.

Timberson was already reacting. His hands moved rapidly, fingers coming off both the rifle trigger and the pistol trigger as he thrust it forward and up.

Maybe it was instinct and maybe it was luck. Maybe the antelope didn't know what it was doing. Either way, the rifle caught between the two blades of weapon, each blade barely centimetres away from his chest.

Nick raised his gun.

The antelope moved so fast that Timberson gave no indication he saw what happened. One leg rose, crossing the distance to Timberson's head. A sick crunch was heard and the young wolf's head was crushed between the leg and the wood wall.

The antelope moved back before his tranquillizer could reach. It stepped back rapidly, almost a blur. Nick just saw it disappear through a dark patch on the ground.

He bounded over to Timberson, Judy trailing behind him. He checked for a pulse. It was there and steady despite the blood streaming down Timberson's muzzle.

Judy flicked on her radio. "Dispatch, 10-54U on Timberson." She gave Timberson's location. "Pursuing suspect now."

"10-4, Officer Hopps. Stay safe."

They left Timberson there, trusting that he would survive. The pool of darkness turned out to be a hole in the ground, five metres in either direction. Nick unhooked a handcuff and let it drop. It landed with a muffled thud slightly over a second later. Safe enough to jump.

He flicked on the torch installed in his tactical vest. The light illuminated the mattress on the ground. Nick followed after Judy. There was a scent of rot, sickly sweet, and mild undertones of decay that pervaded the tunnel air. Her torch came on, adding to his.

There were splatters of blood on the ground. They moved quickly down the dank tunnel. Graffiti, gang marks, littered the walls. There were marks for the Blood Pack and Blue Suns, 10th Street Blues and Anarchists, and many more.

The temperature dropped suddenly.

"We're in Tundratown," he told Judy without slowing down. His limbs felt good. Light. Free. He hadn't felt like this since high school.

She nodded and increased her pace. He kept pace easily, both of them tracking the splatters of fresh blood here and there. The blood led to a maintenance ladder.

Their radio's crackled. "Officer down." His blood froze. That was the last thing anyone wanted to hear. "Repeat: Officer Swinton down. Suspect is headed eastbound."

Without hesitation they climbed the ladder.

Cold air hit him smack in the face. Nick ignored it and the flurry of snow. Instead orientating eastward. They ran down the ice-slick road, past mounds of snow and ice flows on the other side. He saw antelope hoof marks and followed them right into a square. It was empty but large sculptures and trees with menacing branches made it a tactical nightmare.

A signal from Judy. Nick went right, keeping his tranquillizer raised and prepared to fire. He walked past the sculpture of a polar bear, ice murky in some places and clear in others. A tree coming up to his left. Nick kept his back to the sculpture, using it as cover as he turned the corner. Nothing but a dulled silver surface. Some sort of postmodernism.

He saw a blurry shape in that piece of postmodernist art. Instinct screamed and Nick ducked with ears flat as something carved apart the ice sculpture. He felt the cool touch of a blade caress his head taking some of his fur.

Right paw outstretched, he reached the ground and used that paw as support as he twisted around and saw it; the antelope, finishing its swing that carved straight through ice. His left hand, his gun hand, rose of its own accord, trigger being pulled. A tranquillizer dart flew.

The antelope's weapon twisted, batting aside the dart.

 _That's just not fair_ , Nick thought as he braced his legs and leapt back, just managing to dodge the blade to the crotch. His breathing became rapid.

He scrambled back, hearing Judy call his name, and standing, heart pounding violently. The blade came again, this time to the right near his neck. A step back and it flew harmlessly by.

He pulled out his taser. Aimed. Fired. Missed as the antelope in dark clothing dodged the two electric darts. He dropped it, crouching down to grab his service pistol and rolling to the side the moment he had it in paw.

The scythe—because that was what Nick was officially labelling it—lodged itself into the ground he had occupied. The antelope moved to the side just as Nick heard a gunshot.

 _Now we're dodging bullets,_ Nick thought sardonically, hearing the bullet land on another exhibit _. What did your mother feed you?_

Nick dropped his tranquillizer gun, grabbing his stun baton. A flick as he stood extended it to full length. Then he turned it up to max. It hummed noticeably with a voltage of slightly over two and a half million volts.

The kudu bolted behind the metal mirror. Nick followed in its shadow. He leapt forward, raising the stun baton and striking solidly at the kudu's back. Its muscles contracted for a moment.

Then it whirled around, pivoting and aiming it leg low but high enough to strike his head.

Adrenaline spiked, training and instinct coming together, and Nick ducked beneath the leg. He lashed forward again, past the antelope's guard and striking the suddenly exposed scythe.

The scythe was made of metal. Metal was electrically conductive. The stun baton was capable of felling an elephant.

A shrill scream that chilled his bones. The smell of burning flesh. A gunshot before the antelope's shoulder jerked forward.

He lifted his gun, thumbing the safety and aiming at the antelope's leg. A mistake. He took his eyes off those long and powerful forelimbs for just an instant.

Nick only had a second to notice hoof aimed straight for his muzzle. Only a second to try and twist out of the way. He tried

Too late.

With all the force of a sledgehammer, Nick was struck on the shoulder. His hindlimbs lifted off the ground as he flew back. The blow hurt but it wasn't debilitating.

Then he slammed into something hard and cold, head jostling violently against it.

Blackness.

He surfaced from the murky depths of unconsciousness. Nick blinked heavily. He saw the antelope approaching. Another blink and he saw the blade raised.

Another blink as the world swam. The antelope had turned around. He could barely make out the red blotches on its dark coat. It jerked back as if struck. Then again. Then a third time before it sank to its knees.

With a groan, Nick shambled upright. His head pounded. So did his shoulder. There was blood running down his muzzle but he ignored it. This wasn't the worst he'd ever had.

There was Judy disarming the antelope, saying its rights. Nick didn't focus on that. No, he focused on the heady smell of blood and something artificial. The erratic nature of the antelope's breathing. The dull thump of its heartbeat.

It was dying.

"Wait, Judy," he said hoarsely, ambling over to the antelope as the world shifted from side to side.

"Stay down, Nick," she replied, hooking his arm over her shoulder before he could fall. "It's over."

"Not yet. Call an ambulance." He grabbed his phone, seeing double, and switched on the voice recorder. He walked in front of the kneeling antelope. "Do you understand that you're dying?" he asked the antelope.

It glared. Then it coughed, red flecks landing on the white snow. "Yeah. What's it to you?" The antelope was female.

"Did you kill Jacob and Rita Meerson?" he asked, glancing at her eyes. Narrow bars. Nick blinked. They were gone in a moment.

"Fuck you," she replied, coughs racking her body. His ears were still ringing but he heard the whispered, "She said I'd be safe."

"Who did?" Then he lost his balance, falling to his knees. Judy screamed his name but he waved her off. "Tell me. Please."

The antelope stayed silent a long time. Long enough for Judy to prop him back to his feet.

"Anna." His eyes widened. "Hoofsdottir. Bitch said she'd have me covered for life…"—More coughs—"Just one fucking job. Bitch lied."

"Yeah, she apparently got you good," Nick agreed, wearing his trademark smirk. He could hear how weak her heartbeat was. "Why did she ask you?"

Police sirens in the distance.

"Owed her," the antelope muttered. "Ran with the Blues. Made a mistake. She kept me alive. Owed her ever since."

"Why the Meersons?" he asked.

The antelope fell forward. Both he and Judy moved forward trying to keep it upright.

"She… never told me," the antelope said weakly. Another cough. More blood. "I… her job. Computer shit. Meersons… lawyers. Malpractice…"

All the strength left the antelope. Nick and Judy placed her on the ground before Judy helped him walk away, setting him against a display.

Dead. That antelope was dead. Blood was pooling around her from gunshot wounds.

The sirens were close. Wolves and lions and tigers and… a buffalo? Chief Bogo? Rapid shuffling and even more shouting as Bogo organised them. Nick let his eyes close.

Someone shook him awake. Judy. He always knew what she felt like. "Stay with me, sweetheart." He forced his eyes open. They were so heavy. There she was, grey fur and purple eyes and twitching nose. "Good. Just stay awake for me."

"Anything for you, darling." He smirked as he saw her smile. "Anything for you."

She drifted out of focus. There were other voices but he could barely make them out. Was that Chief lumbering into view? Words were said but Nick paid attention to none of that. All that mattered was the feel of Judy's paw around his, her scent infusing his nostrils and the sight of her through the blood dripping into his left eye. He shut the eye when it became unbearable to keep open.

Voices spoke, occasionally piercing the thick veil of his thoughts:

"Multiple fractures…"

"…elp me move him."

"Possible spinal damage."

Paw and hoofs gripped his body. Nick's right opened, barely. Bleary shapes of larger mammals. The feeling of being lifted. Then it was over and he was on something warmer than the cold snow. A stretcher he realised.

"Nick stay with me." Judy. He forced his eye open further. Saw her still gripping his left paw whilst an EMT checked him over. Gloved paws cleaned the wound above his eye, stitching it quickly and proficiently. It didn't hurt as much as he knew it should.

 _What did they dope me up on?"_ he wondered tiredly.

His vision swam once more but he fought past it, clutching at consciousness with a renewed fervour. Nick forced himself up, propped up by the elbows. He ignored both Judy's and the EMT's exclamations.

Despite the lurching in his, stomach Nick smirked. Then he looked at Judy, taking in the mild signs of stress. "I'm fine," he whispered hoarsely. "Bit banged up but fine."

"You are not fine," she replied. "You probably have a concussion."

A quick check later and Nick officially did not have a concussion. He wanted to say something to her but Chief Bogo appeared, almost silent despite his massive form and a severe expression on his face.

"Hopps, IA wants your statement." His voice didn't match his expression as he inclined his head in the direction of a dark-suited mammal. The Chief waited until Judy was gone before shooing away the EMT.

"Hey, Chief," Nick said in a raspy voice. "So, do I get a medal? Maybe a street named after me. I have a better idea, how's about a statue. Yeah, ten metres tall and all gold."

"I told you to complete this case not nearly get yourself killed," Bogo said, not unkindly. "Well, we've found the killer and now she's dead. Good job, Wilde."

Nick frowned. "What about Hoofsdottir?" he asked.

The Chief raised a brow. "What about her? As far as I know she's being released in a few hours with the others. The only evidence we have is circumstantial. A similar tool doesn't make her a killer."

He stared at the Chief, bewildered. _What about the glass-drive? What about her confession?_

"What confession and what drive are you talking about, Wilde?" It was only then that he realised he had asked the question out loud. "Are you sure the EMT checked you out properly?"

"We found a drive," Nick explained, "in Hoofsdottir's apartment. Encryption key as well. I left it with Forensics before the call came in." He shook his head. "That's not the important bit. We got a confession from the perpetrator."

He removed his phone under Bogo's hard stare and sent a copy of the audio to his network partition as well as Forensics. Then he played the recording for the Chief.

"This changes things," Bogo said. "Legality might be an issue but it's cause enough to keep Hoofsdottir a bit longer. Long enough for the contents of that drive to be investigated. Good job, Wilde. You might have stopped a serial killer in the making. Anything else?"

He racked his pounding head for anything else. "Possible gang connection. 10th Street Blues. It's in the pictures."

Bogo patted him on the shoulder. "Get some rest. We'll take over from here."

Minutes later Judy appeared. She looked rattled, shaken, like something fundamental about her had been stripped away. Nick frowned even as he accepted her help to a nearby squad car driven by a ram Nick had never seen.

The drive was quiet, Nick nearly nodding off but he forced his eyes to stay open. He'd go to the hospital tomorrow and get his shoulder checked. But right now all he wanted was a comfortable bed to sleep in.

Outside it was still day but evening was fast approaching.

Judy helped him up to their apartment, waving off the ram's attempts to help. She left him on the couch at his request. He switched on the TV as Judy went to take a shower. A thousand channels plus whatever the internet had and there was still nothing to watch.

He settled on a documentary about the Refusal Wars, specifically the third.

" _It is known_ ," the presenter began, " _that the primate subspecies known as Sapien Sapien left behind remnants of their technology, primarily to the Canis Lupus subspecies commonly known as dogs and the Felis Catus subspecies known as cats. These two species, both artificially evolved, claim to be the inheritors, and thus rightful rulers of all Sapien territory which covered the globe.  
_

 _"And yet, we are mammals. We evolved despite our differences and formed this great civilisation. The Refusal Wars are so called because, despite the technological disparity, we as mammals will not accept the rule of foreign tyrants."  
_

Nick muted the TV as Judy appeared, freshly cleaned and in civilian clothes. She sat beside him, resting her head on her good shoulder. She was solemn.

"Um, Carrots." She didn't respond. "I don't know what happened to make you so upset but if it's about the milk I promise I'll get you some tomorrow. I'll even get that carrot flavoured stuff you bunnies love."

She snorted, a single moment of happiness before she fell silent again. Nick gave her the time. There was no point in trying to force her.

Eventually, she spoke. "They train us to bring criminals in, don't they?" He nodded. "And yet I killed that antelope."

"She was trying to kill the both of us," Nick said softly. "She killed Swinton. Nearly got Timberson and me. You had no other choice."

"I shot her five times, Nick. All centre-mass. You can't excuse that kind force. Not ever." A shake of her head. "I saw things at the border and I've taken down perps but they've never…"

Then he understood. "First time you ever saw them die before you."

"First time like this," she answered.

"Yeah, first time's never good. And right now you're thinking of all the ways you could have taken down that antelope without lethal force. But you know what, it happened. I'm not going to say get over it. I'd be worried if you did. But you did what you had to do in order to stop a criminal killing your partner." He felt her tense. In response, he pulled her closer. "And I was dead. I was down for the count.

"Shit happens in life," he continued. "Never forget the first time. I was what? Nineteen, maybe."

"Nick," she said, pulling away—and didn't that just hurt—and staring at him in shock.

"Yup. I told you I've been hustling since I was twelve. It wasn't always as innocent as what you saw me doing. Gangs got involved at some point. I had made something of a name for myself. Confidence games. A few heists here and there." He shook his head. "This guy tried recruiting me. Worked for the Suns. They needed someone of my skills. I didn't want in so I went to Big. This was back before he controlled all of Tundratown. I've known him since I was a kid. Lived nearby and I did a few odd jobs here and there. Nothing dangerous or criminal. Just a bit of money for a kid you liked.

"He got rid of the Suns guy in exchange for a few favours. The jobs were easy enough. Usually theft or some sabotage. I wanted out one day. Things were getting violent and someone made a few threats to my ma. 'I have a special task for you, Nicky' he said. The Suns had this vault, you see, and inside was all their money and blackmail Mr everyone from the mayor down to street thugs. He needed some explosives planted. Destroy that and you destroyed the Suns power base. An attack on their compounds at the same time. I watched it all burn."

He leant back, closing his eyes. Then he felt a paw gripping his arm. He smiled.

"Someone must have been suspicious or something. I don't know. All I know is that I was suddenly fighting for my life. I won that fight. Had the guy on the ground, unarmed. Me with a gun in hand. I could have left him. After all, the Suns were done for. I pulled that trigger. Watched him die in a pool of blood. There's no justifying what I did. That was murder, plain and simple.

"After that, Big controlled Tundratown. He paid me wall for those jobs. Especially the last one. I was now a member of the family. No one on the streets messed with me. Well, no one except the Razorbacks but they could never prove anything. Then came the skunk incident. Destroying that vault was the only reason I lived."

She hadn't said a word by the time he fell asleep.

The pain in his shoulder was magnificent, second only to the explosion going on in his head. Nick woke to a world that hurt. He groaned, shrugging off the blanket and staggering weakly to the kitchen from his place on the couch. Water straight from the faucet reinvigorated him slightly.

He stumbled to his bathroom. Found the medicine cabinet. Took enough painkillers to last a week. Nick looked at the mirror. A stranger stared back at him. That haggard and weary face couldn't be his, could it? He didn't remember that line of scars on his head or the bandages around his shoulder.

A shower helped clearing the fog away. He changed into his signature beach shirt and tan shorts. In the kitchen, he found Judy cooking. The sizzling of pancakes and the scent of blueberries sent his stomach in a rush.

"Aw, you do love me, darling. I think I kinda like the sight of you cooking me breakfast in my kitchen." He liked it much more than that.

Judy snorted. Some of the weariness was there but not as bad as last night. "Well, next time pick a fight with a kudu doped on some serious stuff and I'll make you breakfast."

He took a seat as Judy served him a gracious portion of pancakes. She even made a blueberry sauce. Nick couldn't help the loud groan that escaped his mouth.

"I always knew I could pry sound like that out of you," Judy said, sitting opposite.

He took in her confident smirk. "Oh, I'm pretty sure you're a moaner." Her ears reddened and before she could speak he added, "Just wait till you get a load of my baking."

"Take a bite." He did, groaning around the explosion of flavours. "Yeah, you know you love me."

"I do." Nick smiled. "So, do we have the day off or something?"

"You're on unspecified medical leave. So if you want to cry for a week you can. Or you can come back to work tomorrow. Make sure you visit the hospital later. Appointment's at 1115. I'll hold your hand if you need it."

"And you?"

"I've got work. And besides I've spent all my leave days. Remember that holiday I took."

He nodded. "That was after your stint with the 1st Border Scouting Regiment." Nick remembered being worried sick during her stint with the most elite rifle regiment tasked with protecting the border. "Your marksmanship scores must have been really high to get you that kind of training."

"Don't stop complimenting me. Either way, I'm going to work."

They ate in silence, Nick trying his best not to make any more embarrassing sounds and Judy watching him. He always felt her gaze, always knew when she was near.

"What?" he asked, setting down his fork. "You've been staring at me like you've just seen a living primate."

Judy frowned, one ear twitching. "How did you move so fast?" Nick tilted his head, confused. "When you were fighting that kudu you moved faster than I've ever seen. Nick, you were moving faster than me."

That was odd considering that her reflexes eclipsed his. "Adrenaline and caffeine," he justified. "Trust me; I probably have more caffeine in my system than water."

She left him and even though he knew she was coming back, even though he believed that Judy was the best there ever, her leaving left him feeling empty. Almost like…

 _Oh, damn_.

The Zuber car dropped him off a block away from his destination. No amount of cajoling would help, Nick knew, so he simply left a large tip with the driver.

He approached the gates using his grey coat as a shield against the strong winds today. He was thankful he changed the shorts to slacks of the same colour. Swagger in full force, Nick walked up to the gate, nodding at the polar bear clad in a dark suit, and waiting patiently before the gate was opened.

He followed after the bear down the snow covered path, taking in the snow mounds accumulating on the roof of the old-fashioned home. Stone, very dark stone, made up the walls whilst ceramic slates made up the roof.

Nick followed through the arched door and into the wide foyer. Two more polar bears fell in step behind him, two metres or so back. A respectful distance.

"Kevin. Raymond." He nodded to each polar bear in turn, following the first down the carpet covered stone floors. He took in a few of the paintings. Mr. Big, of course, featured prominently as did his daughter and his late son but there were a few interesting ones; a picture of the wedding day with both Nick and Judy in it; a portrait or two of Judy outside of her police uniform; and even the grand opening of Mr Big's first legitimate restaurant that didn't serve as a gang spot. The food there was good.

The office hadn't changed at all since Nick last came in here, almost certain he was going to die. The fireplace smack dab in the middle of the north wall, above which were photos and an old clock. Warmth and light radiated from the crackling wood, framing the slanted desk in an almost nightmarish light. A single light to right behind which a snow covered bookshelf lined part of the wall next to the fireplace.

The only difference was the chair and small table. He was gently—for a polar bear—pushed into the seat though his bandaged shoulder, the one he thought the coat hid, wasn't touched. He took in the wooden table. A single tray holding a pitcher of a blueberry drink and a smaller bottle of what looked to be very good gin. Nick almost smiled until he saw the blueberry cannoli.

 _Oh, I am so dead._

The door to the right opened and in entered the largest polar bears Nick had ever seen, dressed darkly with only a few gold chains as adornment. He was Mr Big's personal bodyguard, carrier and enforcer, sent out only when a message needed to be sent. In the last four years, Nick had religiously avoided any investigation that had the bear's signature.

The bear laid his hands on the desk, opened them revealing the crime boss before twirling the chair around. Other than a bit of white on his eyebrows, Mr Big had hardly changed. He still wore the dark three piece suit with the incongruous red flower; his ring was still prominently displayed and his posture perpetually relaxed.

Nick stayed silent until Mr Big deigned to address his presence. "Nicky, my boy, you come into my house uninvited yet again."

Despite the menacing tone, Nick was relieved. He hadn't heard Mr Big call him 'my boy' since before the skunk-butt rig incident.

"You're looking well, Mr Big," Nick replied. "And I'm sorry for coming in unannounced. There was a matter of pressing importance."

The crime boss made a sound of dismissal, gesturing to the tray. One of the smaller polar bears came forward, pouring both the gin and blueberry mix, before setting it back down. Nick took a sip, keeping his face impassive.

"You speak of the murderer who wandered onto my territory," Mr Big said once Nick set the glass back down. "A kudu, I believe, using a scythe. The same one who killed an officer in Cell 1."

Nick reviewed the map in his head, stomach churning at the reminder of Officer Swinton, on loan from the prison, who had been killed. Cell One of Tundratown matched up with their exit point from the tunnel.

"Yup, that's the one. No one operates in Tundratown without your permission. And when they don't they tend to wind up in prison or dead."

A gesture of negation from the crime boss. "Are you implying I aided that murderer?"

"No, never. Cop killing is one thing you've never done," Nick said calmly, "ever since I knew you. But there's something bothering me about all of this and I don't know what it is. But I do know that you know everything that happens in this area."

Mr. Big hummed. "I'm not omniscient, Nicky, despite whatever childhood beliefs you still hold."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah, I did believe you knew everything when I was younger," he admitted. "You always seemed to know what your enemies were doing. Tell me, on that day when you gave me that task, did you know I would ask to leave?"

"No, Nicky, I did not. If you hadn't asked I would have told you to take a holiday somewhere far away for a few weeks until the fights stopped." That was news. "But _you asked_ and I knew you could break into the vault. So, why did you come here, Nicky? Don't look shocked, I've known you since you were a child, and this is how you act when you want something."

Mr Big gestured to the polar bears and they shuffled out of the room, leaving only Nick to face Mr. Big without an audience.

He sighed. Took a deep sip of his drink. Forced the tension out of his muscles. "There's this girl," he said finally.

Mr Big chuckled. "There always is."

"And I need to know if the past was passed between us."

It was a loaded question. There were two decades of shared history between them from when Nick was a young kid and Mr Big was slowly amassing his power. They had broken bread together and taken control of Tundratown together. There was a skunk between them, a threat of death followed by a wedding.

"I haven't forgotten that skunk-butt rug." Nick grimaced. "But I gave you a special task and you completed it. So I'll give you this: this girl that you love, I won't go after her no matter what happens between us."

Nick let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in. "Thank you."

"Now, who's the girl?"

Nick closed his eyes. "Judy Hopps."

A sound of shock from the crime boss and Nick felt his hopes plummet. "The bunny? The girl that I consider a daughter?"

"The same," Nick said, voice small.

"Nicky, boy, open your eyes." He did, taking in the shrew's wide eyes. "Not many will agree but stranger things have happened than a bunny and a fox. But understand that the girl you pursue is one I consider a daughter. A wayward and rebellious daughter trying to get me to change my ways but still a daughter. If you hurt her…"

The threat didn't need saying. Even now Nick could hear the ice flow beneath him.

"I won't hurt her," he promised, "but I can't guarantee her safety. Wearing the blue is sometimes a death sentence. I'll do my best to keep her safe but I know Judy would lay down her life if it could save someone."

A humming sound from the crime boss followed by a gesture of dismissal. So Nick left, riding back to his apartment with only his thoughts to keep him company. On the way up his phone buzzed. He read the message from Chief Bogo in astonishment:

 _A witness has come forward for the Meerson case._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **There's a reason Nick is a badass.**

 **10-34: Assault (in progress)**

 **10-54: Ambulance Case**


	4. Chapter 4

_The bullets struck the steel door like hail on glass, constantly thunderous. The room was small, steel featuring prominently. A few desks and shelves here and there but otherwise empty. All that really mattered was Judy safe behind the door._

" _Help me move this," she said from behind one of the low shelves. He saw the muscles in her neck tense._

 _Nick moved to the other side of the shelf, shoving his uninjured shoulder against the steel, and_ pushed _. Every muscle in his body tensed and shuddered against the weight of the steel shelf. Then Timberson's massive form was between them and the strain lightened considerably. The shelf screeched as it was dragged across the floor leaving scratch marks on it in the process. It slammed solidly against the door._

" _The desk," she said and Nick knew she wanted to move that as well. He almost sighed._

 _Then Timberson spoke. "I've got it, ma'am. Tend to Officer Wilde's wounds."_

 _Nick stared at the wolf incredulously even as hammering of bullets petered out. The wolf moved behind the desk, tensed his muscles and then heaved. Nick watched in shock as the desk moved slowly but surely._

 _Judy's paw grabbed him and she led him to a chair. The torch on her vest flicked on. "Stitches are broken." He pawed there, feeling blood. "Bullet graze on you arm. Lucky it didn't hit an inch to the side." Then she tilted his head, looking at the right side. "Yeah, that's going to scar. We'll need to check for shrapnel later."_

 _He quirked his brow, tail twitching absently but let her remove the small field first-aid kit on her back, wincing when she sprayed anti-sceptic on the wounds. "Don't be a cub," she said, bandaging his arm first. It jolted his shoulder and he barely bit back a scream. "Sorry."_

 _Nick didn't respond. Instead, he groped around for the small concentrated painkiller and jabbed it his neck, depressing its contents. A rush of cold through his body forced away the weariness whilst also numbing the pain._

 _"Such a cub," Judy muttered, cleaning the wounds running from his neck to part of his muzzle line. A few years from now and he would have that scar, he knew. He looked at Timberson lifting a second desk on the first, amazed at the pure strength necessary for that._

" _Honestly, what does that guy lift?"_

 _Judy huffed, amused. "More than you, old man."_

 _He rolled his eyes as Timberson came to collapse nearby, panting lightly._

Nick stepped into the main foyer of 1st Precinct, shrugging off his coat and folding it under his arm. There were fewer officers than usual and those there, were sombre. The death of a fellow officer, the ultimate reminder of the cost of wearing the blue, always weighed heavily. Today was no different.

Clawhauser was at his desk without doughnuts for once. Nick saw Francine as he approached the cheetah, waved at her before coming to stop at the desk. The chubby cheetah looked haggard, frazzled even, but he still managed a smile for Nick.

"Hey," he said, straightening his rumpled uniform. Nick took note of the missing Gazelle cup and globe, both collector items. "Chief said to send you up when you came. Have you seen the..."

"Thanks, Clawhauser," Nick said, ignoring the rest of the question completely. He walked up the Route to the Chief's office, sidestepping a disgruntled reporter, a bull that completely failed to see him.

The office was the same as usual. Well, the stack of paperwork was new. The Chief usually finished his paperwork early. Nick slumped into the chair, careful not to jostle his shoulder. The pothole two streets back had been an exercise in restraint, both in not shouting at the taxi driver or screaming in pain. Painkillers or not, multiple fractures were not fun.

"Chief, I know I'm amazing," Nick said as a greeting, smirking, "but does the department really fall apart when I spend half a day away? And here I thought I'd visit my mother."

Bogo was indifferent. "Your family visit will have to wait." That was the closest to an excuse he was going to receive. "But the situation has changed. A witness has come forward and their testimony matches up with the murder."

Nick refrained from shrugging. "That's all well and good but our murderer's dead. And we can't implicate Hoofsdottir based on a few photos and a dying statement from a criminal. As far as I understand this case is shut until we have more evidence."

"But we do," the buffalo said, setting down his glasses. "Security footage on Hoofsdottir's apartment shows our murderer meeting with her three days before the murder. That's not all. The drive's been decrypted and it has all we need for the judge to sentence her as an accessory to murder at the minimum. All that's left is matching the murder weapon and the scratching-pick from Hoofsdottir."

Nick nodded absently. "That only leaves probable cause," he mumbled. Then he looked up. "Oh come on. Are you honestly going to tell me that you can't have a rookie look through her history? Chief…"

The buffalo merely blinked, completely uninterested. "Look through the files in the comfort of your bed and we'll pay you overtime. Considering that you're supposed to be on paid leave for a week you might want to take care of it." The Chief gave him the figure for each day of work.

Nick blinked. "Fine. I'll get it done." He might have money from twenty years of illegal work but he never turned down easy money. "What about the funeral?"

Bogo grimaced. "Three days from now. Full honours."

Nick nodded and left for his office. He ignored the awed glances from the younger officers and the respectful gazes of their elders. It was bothering him but he didn't let it show.

He took a seat at his desk. Booted up the computer. Accessed his network partition which contained all of his investigations. He ignored his personal notes and opened up a recently added video file. It was Hoofsdottir's apartment building from an odd angle, that of another apartment, showing the hallway she lived in after some careful zooming. He watched an antelope that could fit the physical profile of the killer enter the apartment. Fast forwarding revealed the antelope leaving nearly an hour later.

It was circumstantial evidence since the image wasn't completely clear but it would lend credence to the case the lawyers were inevitably building up.

He checked the witness statement next:

 _It was dark, you know. Near midnight I'm thinking. Just came from watching Game of Serpents. Needed a smoke. Work was a bit of a stress. Packing sugar cane ain't fun, I say. So yeah, there I am waiting on the fire escape, watching the hallway on the other building. Saw a mammal; they were tall, wearing dark clothes and got some horns on them. They enter into the apartment. It was the one closest to me and on the right. I'm not thinking this suspicious cause they just enter, no problem. Can't be a criminal, right? So I finish my pack of smokes and then I see the mammal leave again. Maybe a mistress or something. Maybe the couple liked getting kinky. I'm thinking all of this. Then I find out about the investigation and see the murder on TV. Things click and I know they have to be the same person._

Nick looked over the witnesses' personal file. There was nothing too special about it, a bull in great health; standard vision, and neither physical nor mental abnormalities; who worked in a factory picking up extra sugar cane. No history of crime or substance use to make it suspect. Even the character witness statements were solid and they had everyone from the landlord to an old boss where he had an unpleasant parting.

Opening the decrypted contents of the drive was next. Nick's eyes widened as his computer—and ZPD did not scrimp on anything—noticeably slowed as it attempted to open the file. Eventually, after five minutes of waiting for it did it open. The files were all in folders by year and there were files dating back fourteen years ago, likely transfers from another drive. A cursory inspection of the earlier files revealed them to be work history, mostly financial spreadsheets, invoices and contact information.

 _Someone cared about their clients_ , Nick thought, considering the level of encryption here.

He took note of how the nature of data changed about four years ago, moving from client information to personal papers on everything from poetry—very bad poetry—to short fiction—marginally better—as well as history papers; he saw entries on the Refusal Wars, the Fractured States to the south, and theories on the extinction of the primates. He didn't even bother trying to open the files on artificial intelligence, advanced encryption protocol and data security.

Nick shook his head. _Way too much free time_. He frowned. Anna Hoofsdottir might not have a degree but she had consistent work over the years if the files were true.

He went back to the months before the files changed. _Consultancy, more consultancy and even more consultancy. Come on, give me something_. Nothing came up so he checked the bills. _Power here, water there. One for overdue rent…_

Nick stopped. Searched her invoices for that month and the previous one. There, a legal consultancy firm, First Division, that she had recently hired. He searched for their number and found it.

Then Nick called a friend in the DA's Office. "Hey, Cherry, it's Nick here," he said first.

He heard a tired groan. "Oh, Monkeys, what do you want now?" Cherry said.

"I need any information you have on Anna Hoofdottir, specifically anything relating to some firm called First Division. Thanks." Then he cut the line and waited patiently.

When the email came he was playing Angry Men, one of the most popular games on the app store. The email had an expletive-filled note that he ignored as well as history for a legal case against Anna Hoofsdottir, represented by First Division. The settlement was out of court but information on both sides had come through.

 _Well, hello probable cause_ , Nick thought. _I never knew the Meersons were lawyers._

The legal proceedings had been short, less than three months. Nick checked Hoofsdottir's financial history. Her funds had run out by that month. A settlement out of court and a corresponding loan a month later with her house as collateral. When she had failed the bank had taken the house and sold it.

Nick yawned then checked the time. It was late. He stood, stretching his back by habit despite not needing it, and walking out his office. He was nearly at the doors when something caught his attention.

Clawhauser was at the desk, talking with the night shift receptionist, and squealing. Nick raised a brow and swaggered on over there.

The feline saw him and fumbled, trying to hide his phone. It flew through the air and Nick caught it. "Hey Clawhauser," he said, smirking. "Evening, Elkie. So, do I have to go through the phone or are you going to tell me?"

"Nick," the feline whined whilst Elkie giggled softly. "Come on, it's nothing." Nick raised the phone slowly. "Oh, fine. You're never nice to me. Someone leaked the camera footage."

"For?" he asked slowly because this made no sense to him.

"Your fight," Ben said excitedly. "How come you never told us you were so good?"

Nick kept his bemusement hidden and opened the video file. He recognised the scene. It was Tundratown, the timestamp matching him and Judy entering the area. And there it was, the two of them walking through the art exhibit. He watched in morbid fascination at the sight of a red fox ducking behind a polar bear sculpture.

 _Here it comes_ , Nick thought. Then his eyes widened. The speed of the kudu approaching was ridiculous, more so was the silver blur of the scythe as it cleaved apart the ice sculpture. He barely recognised the red blur twisting on the ground, the scythe slicing through the air to bat aside what he knew to be a tranquillizer dart. Then the blade came down, a streak of liquid silver, only for him to leap back.

He watched the blade go from right to left, watched himself step back, neatly avoiding the blade and raising the taser and firing. It was different watching the fox on the screen crouch, remove the tranquillizer gun and roll to the side in a single fluid motion, avoiding the weapon that lodged into the ground.

It was only now that he noticed the impossibility of both his and the kudu's actions. The speed with which he chased after the kudu fleeing Judy's bullets, the rapidness of his stun baton striking its back and the even faster reactionary kick. But it was the speed that he easily ducked under the kick, lashing back at the scythe like red lightning., that stunned him.

Then he saw his mistake of trying to remove his service pistol. The punch moved with all the speed of a bullet and the force of a train, sending him flying back and out of camera range.

Nick gulped, handed Clawhauser the phone and left quickly, ignoring the feline's calls. He found a cab, practically collapsing in the seat.

Nick took a long time waking up. His head pounded, each heartbeat acting like a hammer. Forcing away the pain, Nick fell out of bed, crashing onto a bottle. Eyes bleary, Nick raised it. An empty bottle of gin. He looked around his untidy room, taking in the three other bottles, papers littered the floor, and his phone hid under a table.

He grabbed it, absently leaving it in his pocket. Then he checked the time. 1012. Late. Very late. There was a vague memory of stopping at a liquor store but after that things became hazy. He stood unsteadily, blood rushing to his head, and needing the bedside table to steady him. A few deep breaths pushed away the vertigo a bit.

Stumbling all the way, Nick managed a quick shower that consisted of very cold water and very little movement. He threw on a shirt and shorts, fumbling for the painkillers in the medicine cabinet. A glass of water from the kitchen to wash them down and Nick felt more like a mammal and not some filthy animal.

He stared, bemused, at the note Judy left.

 _Don't come home drunk next time you dumb fox._

Nick smiled fondly. "Yes, ma'am."

He checked his phone. A few messages from other officers, some stupid joke from Fenneck and a video file from Clawhauser. Nick pointedly did not open that one. Seeing it once had sent him on a drinking binge. There was a file from the Medical Examiner. It was the autopsy report on the kudu.

 _Name: Valerie Cape_

 _Sex: Female_

He skipped over the rest of the physical report, taking note of the foreign substance the ME had failed to identify. He checked the identifying markers next.

 _Notable Marks: Burn mark on left leg, indicative of electrical burn. Multiple scars on both arms that match up with improperly done injections [blood toxicology and fur sampling indicate heavy substance use of Class 3 restricted drugs]. Tattoo on back of a serpent, type unknown. Tattoo on both shoulders of 10_ _th_ _Street Blues._

Nick shut it down and made a call.

A growl from the other line. "What, Wilde."

"Hey, Wolford," he said, "quick question: you used to work with the 10th Street Blues?"

The wolf snarled. "What do you want?"

"Do you still anyone from there? Preferably if they worked there between ten and fifteen years ago."

Silence. Then, "Yeah, I got someone. I'll let him know you're coming but it isn't a place a cop goes."

"Got it."

"No, I don't think you do," Wolford replied. "You go there on your own and you aren't coming back. Doesn't matter if mammals think you're solid with Big these days. Look at the wrong mammal and you'll have a gunfight on your paws."

He hummed. "Alright. I'll find some muscle."

Hours later a mildly sober Nick Wilde walked up the stairs to a townhouse. It was a good neighbourhood; no graffiti that he could see; a startling lack of vagrant rats in the piping below ground; the cars were all expensive and slick looking things from high-performance sports cars to larger luxury vehicles. He felt a bit awkward here, standing in of mix of a grey coat and brown shorts, and acutely aware of how out of place his car was.

Nick buzzed the intercom. Waited patiently. Checked his phone for the right address. Then he waited a bit longer for the door to open.

He was greeted by the sight of a grey wolf in navy clothing, staring incredulously at him. "You a cop now?" Then before he could answer, "Get in."

Nick walked in, feeling the very expensive wood panelling and the photos of the wolf with many more. "Hey, Garry," Nick greeted as he was taken to what was clearly a meeting room. He saw pictures of Garry and other wolves in armour in multiple locations from the city to the borders.

"I'm Larry," the wolf said, sitting opposite him and staring at him with deep blue eyes. "Look, all our permits are clean and we haven't committed a single crime. So what do you want?"

Nick leant back. "Where's the other one?"

"Cooking," Garry said, rolling his eyes. "And you haven't answered the question."

He shrugged. Winced as it aggravated his injured shoulder. Plastered on a smirk. "I need some security. And I think Wolfheart Security Solutions owes me for convincing Chief Bogo not to press charges. Must have saved you quite a bit of money."

The wolf grimaced. "Where, when and for how long?"

"Tundratown Cell Three. Now and maybe for a day or two."

"Are you mad? You don't go there. No one goes there. Not if you want to live."

Nick tilted his head. "ZPD still has videotaped evidence of your company aiding in illegally holding innocent mammals." A wince from the wolf. "And I assure you that I have the money so don't think financial exhaustion will stop me."

"Twenty-four hours, just the two of us. Any longer or anyone else and you start paying up, full rate."

Nick stood and held out his paw. The wolf shook it. "I think that'll be fine Mr Dire-Luna. But seriously, where's the other Dire-Luna?"

"Sleeping in. Give us a few minutes and we'll meet you outside."

Waiting in the hot sun, Nick drew in his fair share of stares from fellow mammals. Well, his car drew in stares. The door to the townhouse opened, disgorging Garry and Larry Dire-Luna in the signature navy coats of their company and each carrying a large case, though the white one carried something dark under his arm.

They stopped short of the care. "Are you being serious?" the white wolf, Garry asked.

The car wasn't as bad as they made it out to be. It was long, low to the ground and certainly not fitting in a neighbourhood where the cheapest cars cost two years of Nick's salary. But it wouldn't stand out as much where they were going.

"Try driving that car," he said, pointing to a sleek red car, "where we're going and I swear we'll both be shot. So, who wants to drive?" He shook the keys.

"Now you're just insulting us," Larry said, taking the keys harshly. "Get in. I want this over and done with."

The white wolf took both cases, putting them on the space between the two front seats and then threw the dark bundle—a tactical vest, he noticed—at Nick who caught it easily. He grimaced at the speed with which he caught it.

 _There's something very wrong with me_ , he thought.

He told them where to go, Cell 3 of Tundratown, bordering the environment walls that separated Savannah and Tundratown. They took the main highway between the area, soon coming upon the massive wall. Mass fans released warm and mildly dry air on this side whilst the opposite happened on the other.

They came up to the gates, waiting in their beat up car for the hermetically sealed gates to open again. It took some time but it was a necessary concession in keeping the environments stable. The five-lane road, nearly a hundred metres long, had parking spaces for the vehicles. Larry pulled into a space in the leftmost lane. The tunnel was well lit and police officers patrolled, making spot checks and occasionally directing a car to pull over in the police lanes to the side. Nick waved to an officer he recognised who nodded back.

Finally, the massive gate slid apart and they could move again. Cell 1 of Tundratown, like all cells bordering different environments, had wide roads and large storage units where vans and trucks could be seen entering and leaving, unloading and having contents packed. It was a tight operation as quite a few items would suffer when exposed to the temperature differences.

Larry took the first left he could heading to Cell 3. They neighbourhood changed rapidly from warehouses to middle-class townhouses and finally to the sort of place you couldn't safely travel in; the homes were clustered close, broken windows and rotting wood displayed prominently; a car with its wheels stolen, bullet holes in the front windows and splatters of blood across what remained of the windscreen; a fox on the ground taking a violent beating in an alley some mammals coming from school walked by, completely indifferent to the brutality taking place; a loud exhaust backfiring, leading to a short-lived gunfight that Larry avoided; prostitutes—and if Nick felt for a single second that there were children, someone was going to die today—prowling the streets, their pimps nearby guarded by mammals openly wearing their arms.

Nick frowned as Gary parked near an old storage unit. He checked the address again. It was the right place. He shrugged off his grey coat and holsters, wearing the tactical vest his green shirt before putting the coat back on. A quick check showed his service pistol and tranquillizer gun to be sufficiently hidden. The arm holster with his stun baton was sufficiently secure.

"Wait," he heard from Larry, the wolf in the driver's seat as his partner exited the vehicle. "Just give him a moment. Don't want to get shot immediately now do you?"

He waited, nervously as he looked outside in each direction. Larry was simply standing outside, arrogantly leaning against the car. Nick watched the movement of traffic, noticing how people slowly but certainly started shifting to take paths away from the car.

"What?" he asked, bemused.

The white wolf chuckled. "Simple trick. He's telling them that they can try something but he'll win any fight. Lots of posturing involved." Three sharp taps at the door where Larry leant. "Let's go."

Nick jumped out the car and immediately Larry was there, covering his rear whilst Garry walked—prowled, really—forward to the storage building. The graffiti tags on the walls were of the 10th Street Blues, the windows boarded up and a large bull guarding the entrance, smoking something that Nick's nose picked up as being illegal.

"The hell are you?" the bull asked before they could reach the steps, squinting quite a bit. "You cops because we don't give a dung dropping."

For some reason Nick found himself liking the bull. He took a step forward, ignoring how one wolf was always slightly ahead and the other behind.

"A friend called us here. Name of Wolford. Told us to meet some guy called Slick."

The bull frowned. "Badge." Nick rolled his eyes, took it out and handed it to the bull who removed a pair of glasses.

 _This guy has some bad eyesight_ , Nick thought as the badge was handed and the door opened strongly. The bull told them to head to the backroom. The first room was dark, smoky with drugs and lit by gaudy purple lighting illuminating a few poles here and there. They took the only door leading into a corridor lined with doors on either side. A few pieces of furniture here and a few mammals watching them curiously but still managing indifference.

"That bull needs corrective surgery," Nick muttered as they passed an open door, a couple writhing on the dingy mattress of the room.

Garry put a hand on his shoulder steering him away from an intoxicated mammal swinging its limbs wildly, sharp claws splayed wildly. "That's standard vision for a bull. Can't see much besides movement further than five metres. Closer and they still need glasses," the grey wolf said as his partner moved to cover the open door at the end of the corridor, entering it.

Garry kept him back until a knock could be heard and then they entered the backroom. It was a bar, Nick realised, seeing the counter curving along one wall and a few tables here and there. He took in the drug covered table at the back upon which a hyena, dressed in surprisingly formal clothes, held a calculator and was writing something rapidly.

The hyena looked up. "You the cop?" the hyena asked in a sibilant voice.

"Yup," Nick said, finally noticing Larry holding his briefcase in a dark corner. "You Slick?"

A cackle from the hyena had Nick sighing. "Grouchy Wolford's still calling me that? Grouch never fails to impress. Sit."

Nick frowned, taking the seat opposite the hyena whilst he heard Garry moving to the side. Despite the boarded windows beams of light still entered, illuminating the long knife on the table. He smelt lubricant as well, the good kind you used on a good gun.

"Yeah, Grouch told me you had some questions. Just know that if it's something recent I ain't telling and you can't make me. You gonna need more than your two bully cubs if you want to make it out. Feel me?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "I don't have any particular inclination to feel you," he replied, taking out a picture of Anna Hoofsdottir. "Know her?"

The hyena looked at the picture for all of three seconds. "Yeah, used her a few times. Mostly computer security. This was back when the Suns and their tech mattered. Used to come with her friend."

 _Well, that's implication enough,_ Nick thought, handing the hyena a picture of the dead kudu. "Was this the friend?"

Then the hyena laughed deeply. "Oh, this hoe, Cape. She was a crazy bitch. Fuck, never seen a more natural murderer in my life. Yeah, but they used to come here." He paused. "Cape's dead, ain't she?"

"Unfortunately," Nick said, not agreeing in the slightest.

A scoff from the hyena. "Unfortunately my ass. That bitch was scary. Only reason we didn't kill her was because her friends were all hard asses. Probably kill us as well."

His eyes narrowed. "Which friends?"

The hyena leant back. "What, you don't know? Anna was a like a family pet. Did a few jobs here and there, gave her a shirt after a lot, and I mean a lot, of complaining."

"So she wasn't actually a member of the Blues?"

"Nah, too scared for our kind of work."

A wolf, Larry, approached. "We've got a problem," he whispered. "Cars stopping nearby. We had people watching us earlier. I think it's time we exited."

A phone rang. It belonged to the hyena who stood, walked away and answered it. "You sure?" they heard the hyena ask.

A briefcase appeared on the table and Larry opened it. Inside were the parts to a rifle as well as three magazines of ammunition. The wolf assembled the gun quickly as the hyena's words became more frantic. He looked to the side and saw Garry already holding a rifle, pistol holstered visibly around his thigh and another weapon strapped to his back.

He looked back at Larry who was beside him and saw him holding something cylindrical. "Please tell me that's not a frag grenade?"

The wolf snorted. "That's illegal. Homemade flash grenade."

"We got problems," the hyena said loudly, approaching and reaching beneath the table, removing a shotgun. "Chopra's bully boys are massing up. Got four cars here. Maybe more."

"I'm sorry, did you just say Chopra? As in Nangi Chopra?"

The hyena looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Who else would I be talking about? Chopra and Cape were crazy as fuck. Close as well. Them and that Cane girl. Monkeys but those three did some messed up shit."

He heard the distinct sound of gunfire, loud and threatening. He cursed mentally, removing his tranquillizer gun and phone. He sent a message to Chief Bogo as Garry said, "Deal with the door," to his partner. Then he sent a second to Mr Big that it might be in his best interests to stay out of the area.

"Do you have any proof that the three were friends?" Nick asked the hyena as Garry herded him to the bar. "I need that now before Hoofsdottir goes to prison for murder."

More gunfire. Screams from outside. Garry shoved him over the counter before upturning some of the tables. They landed with hard clangs. Metal. Something that might help as cover. Nick nearly startled when the hyena came to kneel beside him, eyes wide and almost hysterical.

"Anna? Murder? That's nonsense." The hyena searched on the floor. Found something. Then pulled, lifting a hatch on the ground. Inside were physical documents and drives that Slick frantically searched through as the gunfire intensified, slowly approaching them.

He strained his ears. Gunfire in each of the rooms of the corridor. _They're being executed_ , Nick realised.

"Here," Slick said, shoving a drive to him. "Anna ain't ever killed anyone. We just gave the girl a shirt for a bit of work."

Then the gunfire stopped.

"Flash out," Nick heard Larry say. Then there was a loud bang of burst fire, startled barks and chuffs from the assailants, and then the retort of bullets, this time from inside the room.

Nick crawled to the gap between the wall and the counter, pressing flush against the bar. He saw Larry by the door, firing his weapon before ducking behind cover. Bullets flew through the space the wolf's head occupied a moment before.

His phone vibrated. Nick nearly fired his tranquillizer gun by mistake before realising what it was. "What?" he asked, answering it just as someone had the bright idea to fire through the wood walls.

Nick pulled the hyena down as Bogo asked, "Where are you?" practically screaming.

He gave the address, wincing with every bullet that passed above his head. "Do hurry. I have a witness to Hoofsdottir's innocence."

A pause in the gunfire. In a second Larry was beside Nick, holding another cylinder. Except this time it had red bands around it. Quickly, the wolf placed it on the ground as his partner came with a table, placing it between the grenade and the group.

Shuffling from outside the door. Garry stood. Threw a cylinder. Ducked again as another loud bang reached them. Nick felt a large paw on his shoulder before he was dragged back alongside Slick.

"Cover your ears," he heard before doing so.

Even with his ears covered the explosion was deafening. He opened his eyes and saw a large hole in the wall. "Move," Garry shouted, shoving him forward as his partner exited. The light of the sun was blinding but a paw on his shoulder guided him as his eyes adjusted.

Nick looked forward. Larry was behind a corner building, rifle raised. A loud bang as he fired the weapon.

A glance back and he saw black cars, windows tinted, covering the entrance of the storage building. There was a dead leopard on the ground. He barely made out the slumped form of the bull, body halfway off the stairs.

Garry shoved him behind the building, behind Larry's bulk.

He looked around. Narrow walls on either side, windows on each side from which Nick could see a small mammal watching silently. This place wasn't secure. There was a fence wall separating this half of the alley from the next against which a metal bin rested marked with graffiti. Slick was panting, both hands clenched. _Where's his gun_? Nick wondered then saw it resting near the white wolf's paws.

"Lar," Garry said, voice low. "Cover. Twenty."

Nick could see the wolf tense. "Affirmative. Get the fox out of here."

Garry was by his side again, a well-muscled war around his waist. "Slick, follow." Then he was moving. A single bound and he was clambering over the bin and fence, landing deftly on the other side.

Nick moved to the left corner building of the alley, pressing against the cover it offered. He looked to the side. No one coming from the direction of Slick's building. The other side was equally devoid of mammals. Ahead were a parking lot, three stories high, and a park to the other side.

A dull thud behind him. He looked back. Larry was picking himself off the ground, panning his gun in all directions, and then pushing Slick the hyena forward.

"The fuck now?" Slick asked, mania in his voice.

Nick pointed to the parking lot. "There. Take the high ground and wait for ZPD."

A look was shared between the two wolves. Larry nodded first. "I'll take this one." He put a paw on Slick's shoulder. "Stay low. Cover me."

One last look shared before Larry was pushing Slick forward, keeping him low to the ground and keeping his weapon trained to the left.

The crack of a medium calibre weapon from the right building. Slick, his information source and witness, collapsing forward, red blooming across his back. Larry who moved and shouldered the hyena's arm, hardly breaking a step before shouldering the burden. Another crack and Larry faltered.

Nick moved. One moment the world moved in real time and the next he was out on the street, watching Garry react as if he was dipped in molasses. Behind a second floor window of the building Nick could see a mammal—coyote, he noted—holding a rifle and sighting down for a third shot. His motions were fluid as he lifted the tranquillizer gun, aimed and pulled the trigger. The dart flew true, impending itself in the coyote's neck and throwing off the shot. He fired again, the dart lodging in the shoulder this time. Then a third time in the centre of mass.

The coyote collapsed. One exhale and time resumed normally. Garry barrelled into him, bringing Nick down to the ground and covering him with his bulk. A bark of rifle fire. _That's automatic fire_ , he noted, _and assault rifles are certainly illegal_.

The weapon fire stopped. An arm around his waist and Garry was carrying him across the street to the parking lot.

Slick was bleeding horribly. Nick could hear the weakness of his heartbeat, the shortness of his breath. Larry was doing his best to wrap the wound and stop the blood.

Nick pulled himself out of Garry's arm. "Move him to the top floor," he said to Larry, his voice calm yet brooking no argument. Already he could see dark clad mammals approaching the building. This floor wouldn't be defensible. "He dies and an innocent mammal goes to prison. Now move!"

There was no hesitation from the wolf who carefully wrapped Slick's arm around his shoulder, raising him off the ground. Then he was moving past them, a paw brushing against Garry's and then he was moving up.

"Here," Garry said, removing the weapon from his back and passing it to Nick as more dark forms exited Slick's building, forming up around a lead mammal. "Any combat training?"

Nick pulled the bolt, chambering the first round and thumbing the safety. The bullpup weapon was live. "Special Response cross-training," he answered, moving up to the second-floor ramp. Clear lines of fire to the east, the direction the enemies were slowing coming from, making poor use of cover.

He checked the sights. Shouldered the weapon. Took a deep breath.

Garry was below him, two metres ahead. The ramp leading to the ground floor was to his left. Anyone who came up would have a clear line of fire to the wolf. It was a sign of trust that he expected Nick to cover him.

Nick knelt and placed the weapon on the edge of the cover, sighting down the red-dot sight as the first mammal entered range. He waited for Garry's confirmation.

"Open fire," Garry's light voice came.

Nick pulled the trigger, a two round bursting spewing forth two bullets. The submachine gun kicked back violently and his second round was wildly off target. But the first hit centre mass. Garry fired as the other mammals scattered, poorly using the cover of abandoned cars; upturned dumpsters with gang markings; the natural hills from the park; the rides littering the park. Instead, they clustered in the same area, making them easy to pin down.

Plainly put, these were rank amateurs.

Quickly he switched from burst fire to single fire whilst Garry continued firing. Whatever gunpowder was used in the cartridge was not standard for the ammunition size.

A fast moving shape broke off from the cluster, speeding to the right where the park was. Nick aimed and fired. The mammal, a lion, stumbled but kept on running. He cursed and fired again. This time, the bullet missed and the lion ducked behind a small mound large enough to cover it.

He saw another shape trying to break off. This time, his bullet cleanly struck centre mass and the mammal collapsed. Bullets whizzed nearby, inaccurate but still threatening. They were coming from where the lion was hidden.

"Garry, contact one," Nick shouted over the sound of weapon fire. Immediately, Garry's fire switched to where the lion was.

Nick sighted to the left, taking down a ram that had its head peaking out of cover. A splatter of blood and gore as it collapsed, and some of the mammals ran. _Damn it_ , Nick cursed, doing his best to keep track of six mammals moving in wildly different directions. He managed to take down two more.

"Reloading," he heard Garry shout.

Another curse and Nick was firing forward as more enemies started firing. One stream of bullets quickly became four. He was forced to duck behind cover as the fire became more accurate. A bullet struck the concrete of his cover. Nick shut his eyes before dust could fill them. He blinked rapidly, trying to dislodge any dust caught in his fur.

He looked up, snapping off a quick shot. Then saw a blur rushing down the road as Garry resumed fire. The compact form was running on all fours, eating the distance faster than Nick could track. _Fucking cheetahs_ , he thought, remembering the way Manchas ran that night. It crossed the corner of the building and then Nick could see it, skidding to a stop at the entrance.

Adrenaline surged through his body. Time slowed as his senses flew into overdrive. The rifle was too bulky and inaccurate. The pistol would take too long to reach the cheetah already on the ramp. That left his stun baton.

Nick slid around the corner, passing Garry who had failed to notice the cheetah in mid-leap. His right hand reached for the wrist holster of the baton, removing it one fluid motion. The cheetah had claws extended, lips curled back in a snarl and saliva dripping down its fangs. Nick extended the baton, ducking low, legs tensed, and twisting to the side.

Garry had just started looking left, realisation in his eyes.

Nick wouldn't let the wolf die. His arm lashed out, the electrified stun baton striking the cheetah on the left flank. Two million volts surged through its body, muscles contracting erratically.

Then Nick followed through. Trusting in his leg strength, he pushed forward, placing all of his momentum on the baton. Impossibly, the cheetah was shoved aside, falling over the ramp and landing on the ground.

"Top floor," he shouted at Garry, tugging him back. The wolf moved back whilst Nick holstered the baton, picking up his submachine gun as he retreated to the next floor, ducking beneath a steadily intensifying stream of bullets.

On the second floor he of the parking lot he saw the mammals moving forward without any return fire to hinder them. They moved past their fallen comrades with indifference. The third-floor ramp and then they were on the roof.

Larry was tending to Slick, doing his best to staunch the building. Nick pointed to the ledge. "Garry, fire support."

Nick moved to the hyena whose eyes were glazed. "Slick. The drive. What's on it?" The hyena mumbled something. Nick slapped him, ignoring Larry's exclamation. Slick's eyes were more alert. "What's on the drive, Slick?"

He deafening boom of gunfire from Garry. Nick pushed Larry away in the direction of his partner.

"Information…" the hyena mumbled. "Assignments. K-kills. In case…" he trailed off, eyes glazing once again. It hurt his morals to do it but Nick slapped the hyena hard across the muzzle again. "Betrayal. Got everything… bitches ever did."

A shudder from the hyena. A final exhale. The rattle of death.

Slick was dead. And his killers were coming for Nick.

He closed the hyena's eyes, moving to the ledge where Garry and Larry were firing. He looked over the ledge. Saw enemies approaching closely. Fired at a mammal just as others entered the first-floor entrance.

"Cover the ramp," Nick shouted to the wolves. They didn't question him, moving back to the singular rooftop entrance. Nick fired at a lone gazelle running down the street. It collapsed to the ground. Nick heard sirens wailing.

He ignored it, firing once more at a wolf clambering over a swing set. He missed and fired again and again until the wolf collapsed in a splatter of blood.

He heard the whoop-whoop of helicopter blades. Nick looked up and saw the dark speck of a helicopter approaching.

"Contact," he heard one of the wolves shout before an assault rifle fired. Nick moved behind a car, using it as cover. He peeked out and nearly had his head blown off for his trouble.

He ducked back. Realised the ride-height of the car. Crawled under it, setting his submachine gun on the ground. He could see the mammals firing; a wolf with an automatic weapon; a panther behind cover using a large rifle and a rhino wielding an even larger weapon, body armour covering its large form. Garry and Larry were focusing on the rhino to the exclusion of all else.

Nick sighted, the red-dot focused on centre mass, and fired at the panther. His bullets struck truly but the panther only stumbled back before ducking behind cover. Body-armour of some sort. He inhaled sharply, once, and fired at the wolf. A bullet to the throat. One down.

Two more took the downed wolf's place. The whoop-whoop was louder. Nick flicked the switch to burst fire and let loose until the weapon clicked empty. He threw the weapon to the side, removing his service pistol and firing.

Then the rhino lowered its stance and charged forward, heedless of the bullets of Larry and Garry. The two wolves leapt to the side. Nick scrambled out from under the car, barely avoiding the awe-inspiring impact of a charging rhino. The car rose off the ground, flew through the air and over the balcony.

 _This is just great_ , Nick thought, scrambling back before someone could accurately fire on him. Larry and Garry were moving to the opposite side of the roof. That only left him against a rhino. Nick fired until his pistol was spent. He threw it to the side and removed the stun baton, knowing very well that it wouldn't be enough, just as the rhino reoriented and charged.

It stumbled mid-way through its charge. Then he heard the crack of a high-velocity weapon being fired.

The helicopter had stopped above the roof. Nick, in its shadow, looked up and saw a large form jumping down a height that would have killed him. The figure decked out in full riot gear, shield included, gave a single cry before charging a rhino. Nick had seen some improbable sights but this was memorable. Enough so that he didn't notice the ropes falling from the helicopter.

The figure slammed into the rhino using the riot shield as a battering ram. Then its gloved hand grabbed a shotgun on its back even as the rhino started pushing back. There was a slit on either side of the shield and the figure fired through those slits. At point blank range even wearing heavy armour would not save you from an automatic shotgun unloading twelve shotshells of pellets. It especially didn't help if the person firing at you pushed you back in the process until you reached the edge of a three-story building and pushed you over the ledge.

Figures in combat armour rappelled down the ropes, landing around Nick. They were the Special Response Unit, some of the most elite police officers around. One pushed Nick back and the rest of the group moved forward.

Another loud crack to his left. The sniper. Nick looked in that direction and saw an elephant holding a heavy calibre sniper rifle. Francine, Nick thought as he was pushed further back into a corner.

The four members of the Special Response Unit, the lead carrying a riot shield, headed down the stairs, their weapons raining down death on the hapless fools in their way. The figure who first landed approached, riot shield facing the ramp. A hand signal from the figure and the Special Response officer and then the member of SRU was moving forward and down the ramp.

"Officer Wilde," the figure said, still not turning around. "What is it with you and causing messes?"

He tilted his head. "Officer Fangmeyer, what can I say? It's not my fault they all wanted to play with me. I tried to say no but they couldn't resist my charms. If not for those two wolves," he said, pointing to Larry and Garry, "my virtue might have been stolen."

Fangmeyer, the female tiger specialising in heavy weapons, chuffed. "Those two? Wolfheart? I remember being told you were on leave. Here I was expecting a few days of peace and quiet."

Nick chuckled, a slight edge of mania in it. "So was I. But the Wilde Effect was just too much for these mammals." Then he collapsed to the ground as the adrenaline left his system, panting rapidly.

"You alright?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "Injuries?"

He tapped his shoulder, wincing. "Might have aggravated my fractures." He patted himself down. "No other injuries."

"Good. Because the Chief's here and he does not look pleased."

Nick looked up to the ramp. The Chief was there, uniform perfectly pristine and expression thunderous. "Just my luck," Nick muttered, "survive these guys only for the Chief to kill me."

Fangmeyer chuckled then lowered her riot-shield, saluting the buffalo. "Sir. Wilde is secure. Two more combatants identified as Wolfheart contractors are confirmed to have been supporting Officer Wilde."

Chief Bogo snorted. "Relieve them of all weapons then debrief them."

"Yes, sir." One last salute and the tiger was moving away, leaving Nick to the Chief.

They stared at each other, a silent conversation going on. "I said to look through some files in the comfort of your bed. Not, start a firefight in Tundratown. Explain."

Nick took a deep breath. "The murderer we took down, Cape, had a marking for the 10th Street Blues. I looked up someone who might have known her. He _did_ ," Nick explained, pointing at Slick dead on the floor. "He claims Hoofsdottir did some encryption for them a long time ago. But he also said Cape was their personal assassin and worked alongside Cane and Chopra who were both members."

"What evidence do you have? I trust your instincts, Wilde, but without evidence or probable cause we can't move."

He removed the drive from his pocket. "My contact said all of their histories are on this drive."

Bogo took it then activated his radio. "Get me someone from Cyber Crimes. I need a full decryption package." Then he looked back at Nick. "If this is true and I believe it is, I need to know why."

"I can't answer that right now. All I'm certain of is that Cane was our murderer. The kudu was probably just a diversion." He blinked. "Bull's have bad eyesight… The witness statement was false. No bull would have been able to see anything from that distance in the dark."

Nick saw Officer Delgado wearing a tactical vest approaching. The lion's mane swayed in the cold wind. Bogo handed the lion the drive which he plugged into a secure laptop.

"This thing doesn't have any security. But…" the lion said, tapping away rapidly at the keyboard. "We've got murders, dates, contacts. Dumb Serpents, but we even have audio files. All of them on Chopra, Cane and Cape. A quick scan shows them to be untampered since they were created. We'll need to run diagnostics but this is as implicating as it gets."

"Wilde, get your partner and Timberson. I will not allow these murderers to walk freely."

[Line break]

 **Author's Note:**

 **I have no excuses for the length of time between updates. What makes it worse is that I've had this fic finished since the end of June and all I needed to do was edit it. I apologise for this. I'll try to get the next one up on Saturday.**


	5. Chapter 5

" _What now, ma'am?" Timberson asked Judy, head resting against a pillar. His chest was heaving up and down like an overworked piston. "We're pinned down; outgunned and outnumbered. We've no backup and we're boxed in here."_

" _You're certainly cheery," Nick said._ Why am I the only one injured? _he wondered, noticing how both Judy and Timberson were pristine._ " _Do you still have the case?"_

 _The wolf nodded. "Yes, sir." He tapped a hard plastic case strapped to his thigh._

" _One option is covering your escape. So long as you're out with the evidence then we've got them. Special Response can come deal with them later."_

" _That leaves you two here," Timberson said quietly, "against Monkeys know how many enemies. You won't survive."_

 _Nick grimaced. He looked at Judy. Saw the resignation on her face. Then he looked back at Timberson and saw that despite his large stature and calm countenance he was little more than a cub still in the lanky stage._

 _No, Nick decided, he wasn't going to be the mammal that let younger mammals fight his battles._

" _Better one live than all of us die," he said grimly. "Look, I'm injured. I definitely won't make it. And Judy here won't let anyone else die for her."_

" _He's right," his partner said. "Neither of us will let you die. Look, there's a door to the right. You get to it and you get out safely. We'll cover you." His heart clenched at her burning determination._

 _Because this was_ not _how it was supposed to end._

" _Ma'am, I…" Timberson's ears flattened. "I understand. I'll make sure this gets to the right hands." Again, he tapped the case on his thigh with all the evidence they needed. Both of them had learnt since the Night Howler Incident._

" _You know, statistically—"_

" _I don't want to hear the odds," Nick said, cutting him off._

 _The wolf chuckled. "I was going to say that foxes and rabbits have a high survival incidence than other mammals, foxes slightly higher."_

" _Hear that, darling, old man Wilde's making it out alive." He let her punch him though it was a soft punch. "Just follow my lead."_

 **Chapter 5**

There was weariness in his body. Not physically—there had never been a time when Nick had as much energy and strength—but emotionally. A fight for his life after another had taken its toll. But he forced on a smirk as he exited the parking lot.

The police cordon was still in full force. Bulky dark vans around which members of the Special Response Unit and officers from ZPD wearing tactical vests patrolled. A glance upwards showed Francine still in her perch and providing overwatch.

The two wolves, Larry and Garry, were both near an ambulance. Larry was being tended to by a honey badger doctor, bandaging up his shoulder. As Nick approached he could see the tender way in which his partner had a limb wrapped around his waist.

He nodded to Fangmeyer who had her helmet off, allowing him to see the black stripes against the orange. She was smoothing out her fur, ruffled by the helmet. Even so, she looked haughty.

"Done with those two?" he said first. "They will walk free, right?"

"Probably. They have permits for those weapons though technically assault rifles can't be used within city limits. Get them a special dispensation and they should be fine."

"Thanks, Fangmeyer. Don't go around throwing any more rhinos off a roof."

He waved as he left. Larry noticed him first, noticeably tensing. Garry opened his eyes from his doze, looked up at Nick and very nearly bared his fangs.

 _I'm not popular today_ , he thought, raising one paw in a peaceable gesture.

"Well, I think this covers our deal," he said, massaging his ears. Gunfights were not good for the ears. Especially without earmuffs.

"It better," Larry snarled loudly. "Anything more and you're paying us."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck. "About that…"

A groan from the other wolf. "You've got to be kidding us. Let me guess, you want us to storm a castle next."

"Look, this case hasn't gone well from the start and if our suspects have even a shred of common sense then they'll be long gone by the time we reach them. If we find them we might just need more firepower."

Garry glanced at his partner. A nod. "Full combat pay. Most of the members we have on call are new recruits. Simple security jobs here and there before we throw them to a border for a bit."

He asked a few more questions before leaving. He set a reminder on his phone to make a payment to their company. Without them, Nick would have likely died a bloody death like their informant, Slick. He shook his head. Too many deaths.

Nick walked to the edge of the cordon, ducking under the police tape and ignoring the glances that were sent his way. He took a deep breath and sifted through the scents until he found the one scent he would always know. There, at the end of the street, Judy stood by the squad car, arms folded in either anger or worry—Nick couldn't tell.

A reporter tried to intercept him. One of their junior officers cut the leopard off.

Judy's expression was blank, carefully so. "Hey, Car—"

"Nicholas. Piberius. Wilde." For a moment he understood how a prey animal being hunted felt. "You idiot!"

"Whoa, no need to—"

She jumped forward and slapped him across the muzzle with such force that he staggered back. He blinked and rubbed his muzzle. "I was going to say shout but clearly, I should have said not start a violent conduct complaint."

Judy huffed and walked away to the car, entering it. Nick staggered after her, slumping into the passenger side seat. "Hey, Timberson."

The wolf was steadfastly not looking forward. "Officer Wilde, sir."

"So you're not getting involved in this one?" Nick asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, sir."

"Luck you. At least you don't have a violent rabbit as a partner. Oh wait, she's babysitting a certain rookie. Have you reached the casual violence stage? 'Cause once that happens she's going to be smacking you left, right and centre; muzzle to tail. Absolutely no sympathy."

Then the wolf pulled out his phone, removing a set of headphones from a bag on the floor.

"Are you a teenager?" Nick asked, incredulous.

"Yes, sir." Then the steady beat of some form of techno or other.

Nick sighed, slumping into his seat. He took in the way Judy's paws gripped the steering wheel as if it were a lifeline. The twitching of her nose, the only sign of her fear.

"I'm sorry, Judy. For making you worry and for whatever else I did, I'm sorry."

"You don't even know what you did wrong. Where to, Officer Wilde?"

 _Oh, damn_ , he thought. "Mystic Spring Oasis."

There were no other words offered as Judy drove them out of Tundratown, through the Wall and into Savannah Central. Even in her anger and rage and worry, all of it directed at him, all Nick wanted to do was take it away. He wanted to see her smile. Judy Hopps was meant to smile and laugh and make stupid jokes. Not… this, whatever it was.

A police cordon around the Mystic Spring Oasis stretched for a block in either direction. There were civilians being kept out by police tape and frazzled officers. He saw Officer Wolford holding off a pack of reporters, the worst kind of mammals. They never reported anything accurately.

Judy parked as close as she could and the three of them exited, heading for the entrance. Nick didn't have to get very close before the scent of blood reached him. He noticed Timberson gag.

"Timberson, go collect the witness statements. Wolford probably has them."

Another cough from the wolf. "Of course, sir." He pointedly ignored the relief in the young officer's voice as he left.

The oval wood door had been taken down, violently, if only by the large splinter left on the floor. It flooded light into the entrance room. The bead wall had been slashed apart, beads littering the floor and Nick carefully walked around them.

Blood was on the floor. He looked right at the glowing water feature and the four pillars surrounding it. The water was red and the curtains slashed apart. A scaled mammal floated in the water. There were broken pots and urns, the shards were strewn across the floor. A panther lay dead on the floor amongst ceramic.

Yax, the yak's body was slumped against the desk, one limb outstretched as if he was reaching for a salvation that would never come. Nick looked away. This wasn't murder. This was a slaughterhouse.

What made it worse was the strength of blood increasing past the door leading to the Spring Proper.

"Wilde. Hopps." They both looked to Chief Bogo, staring impassively at the scene. "Chopra and Cane escaped alongside other members of this place. You've stumbled onto something big."

"Isn't it always," he muttered. "What now?"

"Now? Now you do whatever needs to be done. I have a PR nightmare to deal with."

He left, leaving Nick and Judy alone. Well, not completely alone. He could hear forensic technicians in the Spring proper as well as officers outside. But it was an illusion of privacy and that was enough to make the atmosphere awkward.

"Nick. Come see this," she said. He approached, bending down near Yax's body. "I think he was trying to write something." There was a letter written in blood. "Starts with an 'S'. I think he died before he finished it."

Nick inspected it. "No, that's not it. Look at how enlarged the top is. That was intentional. And it becomes progressively thinner. That's a serpent."

"You're reaching."

"I don't think I am. This guy has perfect memory. That dead kudu had a tattoo of a serpent as well. The tampered camera's had the same symbol. I'm betting Chopra and Cane have similar symbols. But it's so common no one would think twice about it."

"Even if it is true, it doesn't help us."

"Maybe not," he agreed, "but logic dictates that if Yax's last action was to draw a serpent, his hand would be at the bottom." Instead, the arm was reaching past the symbol almost as if he were pointing.

Nick walked to the settees which Yax seemed to be pointing towards. "Help me move this." Together they managed to push it aside. "An elephant wouldn't fit in here. But an impala like Cane could."

He climbed the grill till he reached the top of the window. Then he tapped around the top till he found a hollow sounding board. A quick search and he couldn't find the latch.

Nick clenched his paw. Took a deep breath. Then punched the wall.

"Nick," he heard Judy shout.

His fist had slammed straight through the wood. He ripped apart the rest of the panelling easily. It was shoddy workmanship and the panelling was thin. There was a sleek looking case inside that Nick removed.

He landed on the ground easily, sending Judy a smile. She didn't return it. He sighed, shaking off the splinters and setting the case down and opening it. Inside, resting on thick padding, was a long clear vial. A single blue orb rested inside.

"Night Howler," he heard Judy whisper.

Cautiously, he placed a paw on Judy's shoulder. She didn't shrug it off. "Worse. Whatever this is, it does more than Night Howlers ever did." A memory from four years ago. "Manchas is a panther. Specifically, a leopard born with a black coat. But leopards evolved as ambush predators. They didn't evolve to run extended periods. But Manchas was faster than the both of us. That's not natural."

"But the street knockoffs don't do that," Judy replied. "They just go feral. Try and take down as many officers as possible."

"The one I ate made me stronger." She twisted around, staring at him with wide eyes. "Faster too. Cape probably had something similar. You asked how I moved so fast. I ate one of these thinking it was a blueberry."

"Nick."

He shook his head, closing the case and lifting it up. "The Chief needs to see this."

The Chief was outside, speaking to a government official. He waved the official away as Nick approached.

"What is it now?"

"Night Howlers. Presumably modified," Nick explained, handing Chief Bogo the case. "It makes mammals faster and stronger."

"Good job, Wilde. Hopps."

The sky lit up in blinding red and luminous yellow and sickening gold. It was coming from the north. Nick was hardly prepared for the shockwave of sound slamming into him. His eyes scrunched shut as he clapped his paws over his ears. Everything from ultrahigh frequencies to extremely low infrasound assaulted his ears.

Someone shaking him. Judy. He opened his eyes and saw her above him. Nick looked around wildly. He was on the ground and Judy was saying something to him that he couldn't hear. Slowly he removed his paws. The sound was gone but his ears still rang.

Watching her move her mouth but barely being able to hear her was disconcerting. He grabbed her paw. "Can't hear," he hopefully said, unable to even hear his own voice. "But I think it's coming back."

It was. It took the better part of five minutes in which he completely refused to let go of Judy's paw but soon Nick could hear something other than the low ringing the persisted.

"Can you hear me, Nick?"

He nodded. "It would be easier if you stopped whispering."

"This is me shouting." And wasn't that just the slightest bit horrifying? Deafness at thirty-six. "Central Train Station was attacked. Bombing. Special Response is mobilising."

She looked to the side, her expression twisting into something horrible. "Judy, what is it?"

"More attacks. City Hall's been taken hostage. Open warfare in Jungle District. Mammals are being killed everywhere."

His eyes were painfully wide. "Take me to Bogo now."

She helped him up and he stumbled after her. The Chief was pointing calmly at officers, saying something that Nick couldn't hear. He did this at the same time that he spoke to a radio operator and a member of the Special Response Unit.

Nick picked up the discarded case. "Chief," he said in what he hoped was a loud voice. Apparently, he was shouting louder than everyone else as people fell silent. "This is Chopra's doing."

The Chief said something, dismissing the mammals around him. Then he turned back to Nick and spoke. He didn't hear a single thing.

"You're going to have to speak louder than that. I can't hear a thing right now."

Chief Bogo scowled. "Why do you think a single elephant is capable of this?"

"Because that elephant has access to this." He shook the case. "And that elephant can hack our security cameras. Monkeys, she led us on a merry little chase. She even had enough people to launch an attack just to kill me."

"And you're certain of this?" Nick nodded. "Either way stopping these attacks is more important right now. But you can barely hear or walk with Hopps. Take her and Timberson. Investigate. Do what you need to."

"Yes, sir."

He said something to Judy. She nodded then saluted. Nick gave her a destination as she helped him into the squad car. He fell asleep in moments.

Nick jolted awake and looked around. He was still in the car, Judy to his left and Timberson behind. Outside were long claws of smoke trailing across the red horizons; destruction and death balanced by two sights that he might have thought beautiful in other circumstances.

His ears still rang. Tinnitus, maybe. They were parked in a lot outside the city proper. Nick stretched and exited, waiting on the other two.

"What now?" Judy asked. "Because I will be very upset if you brought me here simply so you could eat when the city is burning."

He shrugged, looking forward to the diner. It was an old style diner, lots of wood and wide windows. A simple sign read 'Collin's Eatery' in blue lettering against a white border.

"I haven't eaten today," Nick said with a shrug, trusting that they would follow regardless.

The diner was mostly empty. He saw two other mammals on the tables lining the windows and one nursing a drink on the counter to the right. A live feed of the developing situation was shown on the TV in the corner.

Nick led them to a corner seat.

The host came over. "What can I get you?" the vixen said, barely paying attention and distracted by the new feed.

"A hello would be nice."

The vixen faced him fully, a displeased expression on her face. It melted away. "Nicky?"

He gave her a tired smile. "Hey, Vicky. It's been a while."

"I thought you were out there." There was a question there.

"We're investigating something else." He gestured at the other two cops. "Officers Hopps and Timberson, meet Vicky."

"Where are my manners? It's a pleasure to meet you, all."

"Yeah," Judy said flatly, "a pleasure."

"The pleasure's mine, ma'am."

"So what can I get you?"

They gave their orders. Soon, Nick was drinking his second cup of coffee whilst Judy ate something with carrots in it. Timberson simply drank water.

Judy glanced around, her anger being replaced by curiosity. "Why aren't you guys eating?"

Timberson studiously looked away. Nick sighed. "It would be a bit rude," he answered.

"Nick, I've seen you eat before."

"Yeah but…" Nick pointed at his muzzle. "Omnivore." Then he pointed at Timberson. "Carnivore."

"And the problem being?"

"It's one of those subtle cultural things. Why do you think Fangmeyer never takes you to lunch even though you're great friends?"

"So you think I'd have an issue with you eating meat? Do you honestly think so lowly of me?"

"No, but." He shrugged. Called back Vicky. Ordered an actual meal. "Judy, in four years have you ever seen me eat any protein besides those factory grown substitutes?"

"Don't you dare make this my fault," she said. "You could have asked."

He shrugged. "There was never a reason to. I've lost too many friends to worry about it anymore."

Vicky came back, setting down a massive turkey sandwich for Nick and a fish dish for Timberson. "Call if you need anything else."

He took a bite, subtly watching Judy's reaction. She didn't so much as twitch. He shared a look with Timberson who then started eating. They ate silently. When he was finished, Nick ordered another because eating seemed to have awakened a ravenous hunger.

"I get that you're wondering why we're here instead of out there helping. But I'm pretty sure I'm shouting right now and I'll be a liability out there. And the real threat isn't what's going on. This is just a symptom." He pointed at the TV. "You see how fast some of those mammals are moving? Imagine a hundred like that. ZPD doesn't have an answer to that unless we start calling in the military.

"So we stop the real threats; Nangi and Cane and however they're making what they're making. Find them. Shut them down. Save the city for the nth time. Simple."

"Except you're missing a critical piece of that plan," Judy said, arms crossed against her vest. "We have no clue where to find them."

He waved her point away. "That's never stopped us before. Look between the three of us—what did you say you specialised in, again?"

"History, statistics and urban combat, sir."

"Good enough. So what do we know so far? Firstly, Anna Hoofsdottir is innocent. Middle class growing up. Fell in with Cane and her people around this time. Did a few jobs for the 10th Street Blues but was never really a member. She was kicked out of her university and after that, she started taking freelance consulting jobs. A few years back the Meersons—who were also members of the Mystic Spring Oasis—were the opposing lawyers in a malpractice suit.

"Secondly, either Cane or Cape were our murderers. I'm personally betting on Cane. Her friend Cape ahs one too many murders to be caught in broad daylight. Thirdly we know that they were friends with Nangi Chopra, our supposedly memory bad elephant."

"Thank you for recapping the case," Judy said. "Timberson, did you find that useful. Oh, wait, even though you're not assigned to the case you already read the reports. So I guess its thank you for wasting our time. Can we get on with it?"

Nick sighed and placed his tablet on the table. "So I had Delgado write up a program for me." He flicked it on and it showed a map of the city's traffic cameras. "There's been a problem with the camera's each time. First at the Meersons and recently at the Oasis today. You see those red dots. Those show signs of tampering since the feeds are looped.

"Notice how they make a nice line going south out of the city. So now we have a general direction."

"Great. Now we have to search an area a few hundred square kilometres. An area that's growing by at least one square metre every minute we're here."

Nick drained his last cup of coffee. "Hey, between the two of us who's nearly been killed twice in a week? So it would be a bit nice if you could lay off, Carrots."

Her glare was particularly intense. "You know what, Officer Wilde, you're right. Completely right." Her voice was frigid.

"Now you're making me sound like that villain," he said in a voice just as cool.

"Of course not. You're St. Nicholas Piberius Wilde, honour to your name. You could never do anything wrong."

"You know what, fine, let's take this outside." He stood. "Timberson. Case. Review. Now."

Nick stormed out of the diner, ignoring the startled looks from the few mammals in the diner. He didn't bother looking back, knowing Judy was following even if he couldn't hear her steps. Nick continued walking until they were well out of hearing range.

Then he turned to face her. She was his best friend. That did not mean he never got angry with her.

"Ever since you saw me today you've been angry at me." He barely restrained a snarl. "And I know this isn't about the milk so talk."

"Are you honestly that dense, you stupid fox?" He didn't let the hurt show. "You've known me four years and you still don't understand the problem."

"Yeah, four years in which you've proved that you're a dumb bunny repeatedly. If you don't want to tell me then you can walk away, take the cub, and deal with the madness that's happening there." He pointed to the red skyline and the thick clouds of smoke. "And I'll just find Nangi by myself. I'll probably get shot at since mammals like trying to kill me this week."

Her body was tense, vibrating with rage. "You're so arrogant you can't even see the problem. You honestly think bullets curve around you."

"No, but foxes are lucky. And Saint Wilde is the patron saint of luck."

"Damn it, Nick. You're luck won't last forever and then you'll be gone." He didn't expect the tears in the corner of her eye. "You're my best friend and partner, Nick. I can't lose you, Nick. Who will I be if you're not here?"

He took a step forward. "You'll be Judy Hopps, the best officer in the ZPD and one day you'll be the chief. And you don't need me, Carrots. You know I'll take the bullet for you."

"I don't want you to die. Do you honestly not care about who you leave behind?"

A sad smile. "If I could I'd build you a farm and grow carrots for you all day if it meant I was with you. I'm not a cop just because I'm amazing at it. I'm here because of you, Judy. Being around you makes me feel alive in a way I hadn't in a long time. It hurts." And it did, more than she could ever know. "A life without you has no meaning.

"And if I die protecting you then my spirit will rest easy. I won't regret a single moment we spent together."

"Nick," she whispered, stepping closer.

His vision was blurry. The unshed tears stung.

"Everything I am now is because of you. You gave me direction and purpose." He took a deep breath. There could be no going back after this. "I'm not a good person yet you make me wan't to try. And for that, I'll always be grateful.

"I love you, Judy Hopps. The very idea of you not being with me physically hurts. That's why I don't care about what happens to me. Because if you die I'll follow."

Nick barely noticed the limbs wrapped around him. But it was Judy and he would always notice. He gently placed his paw on her shoulder.

"You're a dumb fox," she said into his fur, "for thinking I could go on without you. So promise me you won't do something stupid."

His tail twitched, wrapping around her legs. "I can't make that promise," he said softly, "but I can promise to try and stay alive. And that's the best you're getting, Judy."

"Thank you, Nick. And I love you too."

How long they stayed like that, held close and bound by more than mere words or emotions, Nick would never be able to accurately answer. All that mattered was her presence. A declaration of love. A promise to stay together. That was all that mattered.

He pulled away, unable to look at her and the possibility of rejection. "Let's get back. The cub's probably worried."

A paw gripping holding his. A tug forward. "Are those paternal instincts kicking in, old man? He's a bit too old for adoption." He looked down, saw her head tilted in curiosity. "I just realise you're a cradle robber."

A smile tugged at his lips. "Correction: I'm a Judy robber."

They approached the diner. She placed a paw on the door, leaning on it. "So I give you purpose, do I?"

A fond look at the mammal that held his heart. "You'll never let me live it down, will you?"

"No, I—" She stumbled back as the door was opened. Nick caught her easily, looking up and completely prepared to shout at the mammal.

It was Timberson. He looked at them with a peculiar expression. Then the wolf sniffed the air. "Aw, bollocks. Clawhauser's getting the pot."

A growing sense of dread crawled up his spine. "Please don't tell me there's a pot."

The wolf smirked, the first expression other than determination or calm. "There certainly is, sir. Don't worry, you two get a twenty percent cut."

"And this twenty percent cut would be how large exactly?" he asked, voice frigidly cold.

Timberson shifted back. "About forty thousand, sir."

"These bets are getting ridiculous," Judy said.

"But anyway," the wolf continued, "I think I might have a lead."

They sat back at their table. "You already know about the serpent symbols on Cane and also where the security camera was. But I remembered when we were chasing Cane and pulled up a few pictures of the building." He pointed at a red shape. "That's a serpent, specifically a cobra. So was the one the yak drew and the one on Cane.

"But what really matters is the murder weapon. The double headed scythe was a weapon commonly used by the members of… well, I think it translates to the Order of the Illuminated Cobra. They used to be prominent from 124O AE up until about two centuries ago where they were uniformly executed for numerous crimes. Before that, they had a base south of Zootopia. And I think I know where it is." He changed the screen to show a map. "There's a compound here hidden in this forest."

Nick nodded. "How do you know this?"

"I specialised in history, sir. Murders in specific, and these mammals were distinct."

"Good. I need to make a call. We're going to need some firepower."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This was a breather chapter setting up the big fight.**

 **The serpent is associated with betrayal and every scene involving our bad guys had a mention of a serpent in some form. So I didn't make this up as I went along.**

 **The Night Howlers are a logical continuation. Manchas is not a predator who evolved to chase down prey yet he chased Judy and Nick over a long distance without growing tired. So maybe Night Howlers could be designed to do more which is why Nick is such a badass. As well, none of his fights happened before he took the modified Night Howler serum.**


	6. Chapter 6

" _How are we for ammunition?" Nick asked looking to Judy beside him and Officer Timberson opposite._

 _"Two standard mags left for this baby, sir," Timberson said, shaking the assault rifle next to him. "All out of heavier cartridges. Pistol still has another mag. After that, I'm out, sir."  
_

 _"Well, the youngster's running out of steam," Nick said looking to Judy who rolled her eyes. "And here you thought you could replace me. Experience over age, darling."  
_

 _"And half the time you sound like a teenager making sappy declarations of love. Anyway, I'm good for three magazines of the carbine. Pistol has another few rounds."_

" _I've got another few rounds in me," he said with a leer, patting the combat harness down. "Four magazines, all AP for my main gun. Got a spare magazine for this explosive behemoth." He jangled the hand-cannon firing 12.7mm High Explosive Armour Piercing rounds. "Service pistol's out. That bitch was fast."  
_

" _You know there's someone out there holding two light machine guns like they're pistols?" Timberson asked, voice dour._

" _It's not the size that matters but how you use it."_

" _Thank you for the innuendo, sir. This makes me wonder if this is some exaggerated form of hazing."_

 _Judy chuckled. "Chief Bogo doesn't allow hazing. Try that and you're booted off the force."_

 _Nick tilted his head, straining his ears despite their ringing. "What's that sound?" It was low, barely audible and probably below standard hearing range._

" _I can't hear a thing, Nick."_

" _Neither can I, sir."_

 _A nearly inaudible thump and the sound ceased. "I think we're in trouble."_

" _What are—"_

 _A radio crackled ominously, cutting her off. "Give us the good news," Nick said, sarcasm dripping thickly enough that it would scorch the floor, and answered it. "Trident-2 here, over."_

 _He could hear a war zone; guns cocking, the mechanical click of ammunition being reloaded and bullets screeching through the air; the ominous snap of wet wood igniting; the dull roar of explosives going off.  
_

 _"Boss, they sealed the door," the person on the other side shouted. "Repeat: doors are sealed. You're on your own until we deal with—Garry, shoot that bastard—these idiots. Give us maybe thirty minutes and then—Oh, shit—"_

 _The radio cut off, leaving Nick with a vivid sight of Larry, the mammal on the other end, dying a violent death. He pushed the image away._

" _Well, we're buggered."_

" _Thank you for that image, Timberson." He looked to Judy. "What's the plan?"_

" _You're not going to like it. We're nearly out of ammo and we've got two grenades between us." She gave him a tired smile. "I'm really sorry, Nick."_

 _She leapt for the case._

 **Chapter 6**

After having made the call, the three officers had waited near the squad car, watching the skyline. Things had become much worse—three more cities had become active combat zones; there were sprees of murders in small towns and villages; a high yield explosive had been detonated, destroying most a small city; and the mammals causing all of this moved faster than was natural—and military presence had to be called in. He could see the helicopters and soon he didn't doubt that tanks and infantry regiments would start rolling in.

Something caught his eye. He opened the trunk and grabbed the binoculars. There, to the west of Zootopia. "Hey, Third Paratrooper Division is stationed nearby, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Let's see."

He gave her the binoculars which adjusted to her size and pointed out the falling specks of white.

"You were right about her being the greater threat," she conceded. "And if they have soldiers to spare like this…"

"I would like to know as well, sir," Timberson said.

He smirked. "I like being prepared. It's a great trait to have when it comes to a hustle." Then he pointed down the road where the first vehicle was approaching. "And now we have a small army of our own."

The first vehicle, an SUV that Nick knew, stopped nearby and out came the two wolves who owned Wolfheart Security Solutions—Larry and Garry Dire-Luna. They both wore the signature navy coats of their company but this time they wore armour plating beneath it.

Nick walked up to them, Judy and Timberson trailing behind. "I hope you received my down payment."

The darker wolf, Garry, snorted. "A hundred thousand is not a down payment. We've been paid less in some cases."

"Yeah, well I need a small army. How many did you bring?" he asked, looking at the other vehicles parked nearby and the perimeter being formed by the wolves from them.

"Thirty-four including us," Larry said. "We also brought the equipment you asked for."

"Good."

A paw on his arm. "Nick, you realise this is illegal."

He rolled his eyes. "Technically, Chief Bogo told us to do whatever was necessary to keep Zootopia safe. Hiring merc—"

"Security consultants," Larry interrupted.

"Hiring _security consultant mercenaries_ is perfectly legal. Especially when you have a special dispensation from the Mayoral Office." He looked up at the wolves. "What do you have for me?"

They led him behind one of the cars. Opened the boot. Showed him metal cases that they opened. Inside were weapons.

"Here we have an NR Type-4 battle rifle modified to fire standard ammunition if need be." He removed the large rifle, handing it to Timberson. "Internal suppressor and the two magazines of subsonic ammunition you requested.

"Next, we have the NR K12; a cut-down version of Type 4 with a lot of the weight removed. Also with a two stage suppressor, night vision overlay on the hybrid sight, and one magazine of subsonic ammunition."

"Those are military grade weapons," Judy said, taking the carbine. "The border scouts use the Type 4. This scope alone costs nearly ten thousand."

Nick chuckled. "I'd rather not scrimp. And for me?"

"Collie Mk.12 Variable Weapons System," Larry said, lifting the weapon. "Collapsible stock and a variable barrel length giving it capability between submachine gun and full battle rifle depending on ammunition. Internal suppression system has to be flicked on and off. Remove the external suppressor and you'll have full muzzle velocity."

Nick took the weapon, feeling how light it was. It was a bullpup configuration which meant that both the action and magazine were behind the trigger. The barrel of the weapon was long due to the internal suppression system but the external suppressor made it much longer.

He shouldered the weapon, sighted down the holographic weapon sight and noted how the image was magnified. And that was without using the secondary scope. He only noticed the green beam through the scope.

"UV laser?" he asked.

"Modified for that. As for ammunition remember that green is standard, blue is armour piercing and yellow is high calibre. All subsonic have been marked in purple."

Nick put the rifle back in its case, then took the pistol there. It was a squat, ugly thing with a laser sight beneath it.

"That is the Rig-Royal 12.7mm PDW and extremely illegal to use in urban areas," Judy said, startling Nick. "Every one of these rounds is a HEAP round. Nick, this thing will blow your arm off."

A cough from Garry. "Internal dampeners and a lot of dissipation technology. But even then if you're not in proper position, you will break something."

Nick chuckled. "I think I'll be fine." And only because there was something foreign coursing through his body, changing it and perhaps killing him.

"If you say so. Besides that, we have standard weaponry, ordinance, ammunition and drone kits. So, what's the plan?"

The sun had set yet behind Nick the sky burned in yellows and reds. Warfare tearing apart his city, the place he was sworn to protect and his home. Yet he moved forward between the spaces of tall trees reaching to the heavens, their branches curling and winding and sometimes seeming wickedly sharp.

Leaves crunched beneath his paws, the sound drowned out by the perpetual droning of the river to his right. He stepped around a large stone, making sure Judy was carefully behind him. She wore a set of nigh-vision goggles, the lenses frosted over so as to not glint with reflected light, but he still remembered the museum four years ago. Her movements were perfect—a hunter before the kill—despite being a prey; the Border had taught his friend, maybe lover, well.

They had yet a few kilometres to travel before they reached their destination. Nick glanced forward and right, south-west, but failed to make out their final target.

Ahead, a wolf in navy coat over which a large rifle was strapped, raised a paw and made a fist. The group stopped.

Nick scanned the area, keeping his weapon in rifle configuration pointed to the ground. He found nothing, relaxing slightly. Even with his hearing mildly damaged he could still hear well enough. At least, this time, he had ear plugs.

"This spot seems good," the wolf, Larry, said over their radio frequency. "Berry. Dorry. See that ridge half a kilometre up there. Set up a sniper nest there."

He heard the positive replies across the radio and watched the eerie way in which the two moved in sync, fading into the forest like the gust rustling the green jewels of the leaves. Of course, he could see them perfectly but he would have missed it a week ago.

Larry crouched as Nick approached. He removed a device, flicking it on. It lit up dimly, showing a map constantly being updated by real-time drone coverage of the area. The river to their right showed up prominently as did the vaguely crescent-shaped mount further south-west and to the right of the river. That was their final target.

"You sure about this entrance, Timberson?"

But first, they would need to hit the tunnel marked about a hundred metres east of the river.

"Affirmative, sir," the young wolf replied. "Unless they've sealed it we'll exit south of the compound, directly behind one of their lookout towers." There were four of those, looming large and probably teeming with enemies.

"If you're wrong then we're likely dead," Larry replied. "But we'll make it work. The plan is simple: Nick, Judy and Timberson will take the tunnels and plant det-charges on the communications tower. If they can organise a proper response then the plan's a bust.

"My people will split; two groups of six. One team designated Iron will provide immediate covering from the east after you set the charges. Secondary team designated Castle will use suppressed weapons to provide cover during stealth insertion and enter the compound with you. Any problems?"

Nick scoffed. "Nine mammals against a small army. Not much trouble."

"Search their databases for whatever you're looking for. Regardless we're creating our own exit once the main force has a foothold. Iron get a move on and for the love of Monkeys, don't you dare start a howl."

The six wolves stalked off taking a path angled away from the river. "Hopps, I'm told you have actual combat training. You take point."

"Hear that, Old Man?"

There was a smile tugging at his lips. "Let's go."

A nod from Larry and then his unit, Castle, of which he was lead moved forward. They moved into two groups of three, leaving Nick and his two officers behind. He stood and patted down his combat harness one last time; it was heavy but it carried his ammunition and grenades. Most importantly, it provided a vital layer of protection, second only to his tactical vest. He would probably ditch it later. Much too heavy.

"You guys know we're going in there to kill them," he said in the deepening dark, words nearly swallowed by the growing winds. "There won't be an arrest, not after what they've done. But what we're doing is murder and they won't be any justifying it to yourself once we're done."

"I'm committed," Judy said, clutching her carbine tighter.

He gripped her paw tightly. Reassurance. Worry. A plea to return.

"I know." Then he looked to Timberson. "But you're still young. Honestly, I have no right making you fight this fight."

"Of course you don't, sir." The wolf shrugged and somehow the massive rifle seemed small against his frame. "But I swore an oath. And I might die here and I might not. Murder. Justice. Vengeance. Those are all words but in doing this, I can stop others from being hurt. That's all that matters, sir."

"Good enough," he said. "I'll take point here."

He trotted forward, keeping his body between and behind the gap both groups of Larry's team made. Occasionally he sighted down the scope before lowering the weapon. There wasn't anything that would evade his vision. Even now in the dark before the moon rose he could see birds in their nests and observing them silently; insects that chirped flitting from stone to tree and back again in an endless dance; the light reflected off a newly spun spider-web, an insect caught and rapidly being wrapped in a cocoon of silk. It was beautiful, being able to see the world but Nick couldn't let it distract him. He couldn't forget that what let him see might just be poison.

A scent reached his nostrils. He glanced left and saw wolves setting up a fire position. That would be Iron Team. They were higher up than he was. A look to the right and he could make out the lookout towers on the crescent shaped compound, their bright floodlight facing north, completely ignoring the east. There were dark shapes, mammals patrolling in easy to predict paths though they tended to cluster in groups of three or four.

Nick caught up with Larry and his team. They were a good hundred metres from the river, almost still in the dark if not for his hearing. The wind was favourable, blowing easterly and not in the direction of any mammals that might sniff them out.

"This is your show now," Larry said, nodding. "We'll set up here. Cross the bridge and you'll come out near the tunnel. Overwatch's reporting multiple contacts."

"We'll deal with it," Judy said, authority radiating from every pore and it took everything he had to not lose himself in her. "Nick. Timberson. Suppressors on and subsonic in."

He flicked on the internal suppressor, absently wondering how they had made it, and checking the magazine. There was a purple band facing the direction of the stock. Subsonic. He nodded. Saw Timberson do the same. Followed behind Judy.

They stopped at the bank of the river, near the arching bridge and just metres away from the river. It wasn't the widest river but wide enough that wading through wasn't an option. He could see the enemies, mammals in dark clothing and hopefully minimal armour. He counted five. A quick radio check to their sniper support had them out as six.

He extended the muzzle, lying on the cold dirt and feeling stones pinch him.

"Timberson, leftmost one is yours," Judy said, waiting for wolf's confirmation. "Nick, you take the central two."

He saw them between the trees, one sitting on a large rock and holding a rifle. The other looked around with a sort of frantic energy. They were also the ones furthest back. "That leaves you with four, Judy."

"I'll be fine." There was no way to doubt the absolute certainty in her voice. "In three."

Nick took a deep breath, focusing on the one standing. The other looked half asleep. He heard her countdown through his radio. She gave the signal. Nick squeezed the trigger and heard the low whoosh of bullet—if anything the next round being chambered was louder. The recoil tugged at his shoulder. Nothing he couldn't handle.

The bullet flew true, perforating the mammal's throat and it collapsed back. The other mammal barely had a moment to react before it lost its head.

"Sound off," Judy said through their radio.

"Target neutralised, ma'am."

"Same here."

"Let's get moving."

Nick stood and followed her, keeping low as they crossed the bridge. He spared a glance to the four mammals lying on the ground, blood dripping from bullet holes. There was no remorse in Judy's frame. Or maybe she was just holding it in. Either way, they crossed the bridge without issue. It was downhill to the top of the compound from here, perfect lines of sight. He sent a message to Larry to move up here.

Timberson led them to the tunnel entrance. There was a slab of concrete on it. Nick nearly cursed until the wolf walked over to it, grabbed the handles and _pulled_. His muscles strained as he set it to the side and it landed with a dull thud. _I am not jealous_ , Nick thought. _No, I am not._

There was an old and rusted ladder. Nick eyed it warily, letting Judy and Timberson go down first. He strapped his gun and clambered down the ladder and into the near complete darkness. Even with his natural night-vision, Nick could barely see his two fellow mammals.

He pulled down his set of goggles, flicking on their UV function. The torch there emitted a flood of UV lighting that the lenses picked up, showing the tunnel in shades of green. He saw another two beams of light from his partners. Judy took point leading them through the tunnel. The walls were smooth, almost unnaturally so. Not a rock to be seen and absolutely no indication of insect life. Even the air was stale and stagnant.

Another ladder but this time there was no slab of concrete. Instead, there was a slate of gleaming steel.

Judy switched on her radio. "Castle-1, Trident-1 requesting information on landscape approximately one hundred metres north-west of tunnel."

"Trident-1," Larry replied, "you've got a tower a few metres away and quite a few contacts in the area. I advise discretion."

A nod and Judy switched off her radio. Then she clambered up the ladder, pushing aside the slate. She peeked out before ducking quickly.

"Comms. tower is directly ahead. Lookout tower to the right and about eight contacts. Nick, the tower's yours. Timberson, head due west to the rock outcropping and provide cover if needed."

Affirmatives all round. Judy came back down and gave Nick some space. He breathed deeply and climbed up, switching off the goggles. The communications tower was directly forward as Judy had said, the steel support struts imposing and shadows being cast by the lights coming from the tower to the right.

The tower was a simple thing, a tall platform with floodlights on top as well as a ladder to reach the top. A mammal stood on the platform, leaning forward and likely half-asleep. It was the mammals patrolling the fence that were the issue. Four of them and never more than two in the same cone of vision at the same time.

Nick crawled forward, using a nearby tree as cover. Behind him, he heard the rustling of cloth and the scent of wolf. Timberson who moved west. Nick ignored him, being careful to avoid dried leaves and twigs as he approached. He froze. Nicotine in the air. There, a few metres to his right. Someone smoking one of those electronic things.

Nick checked around, making sure no one was nearby. He raised his gun, sighted and pulled the trigger. The mammal's head struck the tree it was leaning on and it collapsed to the ground, blood dripping from the hole in the forehead.

Another quick check. No one had reacted. The loud wind was in their favour.

He moved forward, lightly and silently until he reached the tower. There was no guard. Likely the one on a smoke break had been meant to guard it. Strapping his rifle, Nick pulled the knife out of its holster. Special Response training had taught him a lot, Nick acknowledged as he climbed up silently.

The mammal on the platform was a smaller one, a cheetah he thought, who had yet to smell Nick. Silently, he walked until he was to the left and behind the larger mammal. He tensed his muscles and leapt forward.

Nick's knife flashed out, searching for the other side of the neck and finding its target. The cheetah's eyes widened as he used his strength to force it closer. His other arm lashed out at the same time and he wrapped the cheetah's muzzle around the crook of his elbow, snapping it shut. Disorientated and with Nick's mass unbalancing it, the cheetah stumbled backwards.

Nick landed first, using his legs to keep the mammal from landing on the ground loudly. It tried bucking but Nick was much faster. The knife came out, splattering blood on the wood platform, and stabbed through the neck again. And again. By the third stab, it had fallen still. Slowly, Nick set the cheetah on the floor.

"In position," he said over the radio. "I can make out two of the guards. Timberson?"

"I've got one, sir. The other should be in your field of vision."

Nick scanned the ground, taking in the two patrolling mammals. He searched further, unable to find the last mammal. "Can't see him. Judy, you'll have to deal with it." He made another sweep, checking the tower northward and the one westward. The guards there looked awake.

"Moving now," Judy said and Nick swept his rifle over in her direction. He made out her small shape in the dark as she bolted towards the fence.

He panned back to the guards he could see. Two squeezes and those threats were eliminated. He put his trust in Timberson. Straining his ears he only barely heard the tell-tell whoosh of a suppressed bullet flying through the air.

The northmost tower was much larger and three guards swept over the area. He could make out a machine gun post and one of the guards had what looked to be a high calibre marksman rifle. He needed to take them out in the confusion before they could move to the lowest level of the ridge to the north-east. From there it was a straight run to the entrance with the other elements of the strike team supporting them.

"Charges set," Judy's voice came over the radio. "Castle-1, recommend you move up now."

"Affirmative. We'll be in position in five minutes."

Five minutes was a long time. Every moment he felt like someone would realise a radio check-in had failed or maybe the wind would shift direction and give them away. Yet none of that happened.

A call from Larry. "All units sound off."

"Iron Team green."

"Trident team green," Judy answered.

"Strike Teams One and Two in position." That was Garry who had the main body of their strike force, lying in wait to the north.

"Castle Team green. Trident, activate those explosives."

The explosion wasn't the single loud burst he had expected. Four lud bursts of light followed by four loud bangs and the tower screeched as it tipped forward. Sparks of electricity arched across the structure. An alarm sounded. The next moment there was weapon fire from the directions of Iron and the strike units.

Nick let none of the distract him, having already changed fire from single-fire to fully automatic.

The first mammal by the machine gun was pelted by a hail of bullets, nearly ten of them that flew quietly until it collapsed. The weapon fire had intensified and the second mammal, the one holding the sniper rifle, was looking in the wrong direction when a burst of fire took it down.

The last, though, was more focused, using the cover the platform provided. Nick didn't wait for the mammal to peek out of cover. He fired through the flimsy wood, expending his magazine. He ducked down, reloading as fast as he could with another magazine of subsonic ammunition.

He looked up. Nearly lost his head. Scrambled down beneath the hail of gunfire.

"I need fire support," he shouted through the radio.

A small explosion a few metres ahead nearly drowned out by the gunfire and explosions. A creak and the tower he was being shot from was tipping backwards.

"Move to rally point 1," he heard Judy say.

Nick slid down the ladder, his paws burning from the friction. He kept low as he sprinted north-east. A dull thump. His eyes widened and Nick ducked behind a large rock before the grenade went off. The explosion rattled his teeth. He leant out of cover and saw a large mammal approaching. Nick held the trigger until he was certain the mammal was dead.

Someone rushing behind him. A glance back showed it to be Timberson, head ducked and rifle gripped tightly.

"Where's Judy?" Nick shouted over the ever-present sounds of combat, the sonic boom of bullets travelling through the air, the bang of fragmentation grenades splattering a hale of spherical projectiles that carved through armour and flesh.

The wolf ducked behind the rock, panting. His rifle shook slightly in his grip. "Ahead of me." He pointed past the downed tower. "Rally point."

Nick couldn't see her. There were too many light sources and his eyes struggled to adjust. But he nodded, helping the wolf up and giving him a shove forward. Nick followed easily after the large wolf despite the equipment weighing him down.

He searched in every direction, sniffing; only smoke and blood; and panning his eyes, flashes of light from weapon fire and the occasional near-blinding light of a flash grenade. But no Judy.

A glint of light. The tangy scent that he was coming to recognise as adrenaline. Nick had only a single moment to react. Time slowed. He leapt forward, tugging at Timberson's combat harness and bringing down the large mammal. He used his momentum, landing and sliding forward, coming to kneel whilst aiming his weapon up in the trees. He pulled the trigger, bracing against the recoil. Something small fell from the tree, landing with a dull crunch.

A tap on his shoulder from Timberson and Nick saw Larry and his team at the rally point. _How did they get there first_ , he wondered but only for a moment. Judy was there, still wearing those ridiculous goggles.

Larry was speaking when they reached the group. "Five, Six, covering fire." Two wolves both carrying drum fed weapons broke apart from the group.

Nick looked over the ledge their rally point was situated at. There was a scree leading down to the ground level. To the left he could see the fortified position of the main entrance; trucks with mounted weapons; soldiers behind barricades; and even a mortar letting loose. Directly forward, nearly a hundred metres or so, was a large grouping of mammals firing on another force further away—one of the Strike teams; the other was to the west, providing support and dealing with their own enemies.

"Garry," he heard Larry say, "be a dear and blow those door's apart."

A response. "Does this look like it's easy? Give me—Merry, don't let them flank us; Terry move up!—sorry what was I saying, love? Oh yeah, give me a minute."

The radio switched. "You heard the wolf. Let's go." Then he leapt forward, landing on the unstable mass of loose stones, sliding down. The rest of his team followed.

Nick glanced at Judy. Saw her nod. Saw Timberson take a deep breath. Then Nick jumped. The rocks, already unstable, were difficult to balance on and he chose to trot forward and avoid the paw-burn. He landed ungracefully at the bottom, rolling forward. Shaking his head to dislodge the stone stuck in his fur, Nick moved to where the rest of Castle team was.

"Everyone, full calibre from here," Larry said.

Nick easily switched out his nearly spent subsonic magazine with one of the yellow striped—high calibre magazines. He had one more of those and a few of the armour-piercing magazines. He unscrewed the suppressor as quickly as he could, extending the barrel to its full length whilst keeping the stock full. He checked his stun baton. It was still secured on his arm holster.

"Here you go, love," he heard Garry say across the wideband radio.

Nick saw arcs of smoke flying over the tree cover and down to the entrance, landing between the vehicles and the soldiers fighting at the entrance. There was a mad scramble to move. Too late. A large explosion rocked the entrance, killing some from the concussive force and others from the shrapnel.

It was carnage, Nick realised as they came upon the entrance. Some of the vehicle burnt hotly, any mammal near them being scorched by the heat. It was a moot point since they were all dead.

There was a steel corridor and a single elevator at the end. It screamed trap but then again, when you were invading, when wasn't it a trap. They packed in the spacious elevator.

"Three, four," Larry said, "shield's out."

Two of the wolves moved to the front, removing an object from their back's that unfolded into a riot shield, four sections held by the metal cross-section. Side to side the shield's provided enough cover for them all. Then they removed automatic shotguns.

"We all know the plan. Wilde, just remember that their lives come first before your mission." The grey wolf gestured widely, encompassing his fellow wolves. "We'll secure the next level but you're on your own after that."

Nick smirked. "I should have paid you more."

The elevator door opened.

The two wolves moved forward down the steel corridor, shields raised. Nick and his fellow officers were at the back of the line. Long lights illuminated the corridor in bright white light. A hand signal from Larry and three wolves broke off, entering the room to their left.

"Follow them," he whispered.

Nick entered the room to his left, hearing both Judy and Timberson behind him. It was a storage room that they entered, long shelves on one wall and a thick support structure right in the centre. There was a door which the three wolves were already stacked up on. He took a spot behind one wolf.

"Flash out," came Larry's voice across the radio. "Move!"

The door opened, two wolves filling through it and opening fire. Then Nick followed. There was a half-wall behind which he could see four mammals—a panther and a bull, and two others, disorientated and ducking behind the wall. A steel table was to the left already being flipped over by the wolves. Behind the enemies were a series of support pillars. A steel wall ran to the right and he couldn't see behind that corner.

Nick fired on the mammals as he moved to the table, pressing flush against is and taking aim. He squeezed the trigger on the panther, missing and ducking behind cover before a wave of bullets could hit him. Those came from further back, in a room right at the end.

Judy came to rest beside him, stealing a grenade from his belt. He watched her stand and throw it with everything she had. A dull bang from the end of the area.

Larry and his wolves behind the riot shield were making their way down the hallway slowly, firing precisely at the four behind the wall.

Nick leant out of cover, sighted at the buffalo, and squeezed the trigger. The recoil slammed into his shoulder but Nick weathered it, keeping his spray on target until he was certain the bull was dead.

He saw an opening and he sprinted out of cover to the pillar on his left. Everyone seemed to move in slow motion as he slid past the half-wall, opening fire on a panther reacting too slow to do anything. A quick squeeze of the trigger and the mammals was dead.

He heard someone shout his name. Probably Judy but he trusted her to handle the other two. Especially considering that Larry's wolves with the riot shields had nearly flanked the table.

So Nick continued moving to the room at the end. There were two mammals left, both moving too slow. Nick unclipped a flash-grenade, throwing it through the open door and shutting his eyes. With the earplugs, the bang wasn't terrible and the light didn't blind him.

One of the mammals, an armadillo, was crawling on the floor as Nick rushed through the door. Nick slammed into the mammal, pulling the trigger straight through centre mass.

He twisted with the armadillo, firing on the other mammal, a hyena rapidly coming to its senses. Nick pulled the trigger. Click, click, and click. Empty.

He ejected the magazine, catching it and throwing it at the hyena bringing its weapon to bear. The empty magazine flew true, striking it across the snout and it stumbled back.

Nick shoved aside the armadillo, retrieving his stun baton and leaping forward. He ducked under the mammal's wild swing and unfolded the baton, flicking on the switch. A quick twist and it struck the hyena's leg. Its muscles contracted, spasms racking its body. Nick didn't let up for a few more second.

The hyena collapsed, still twitching. Nick's lips curled, an ugly expression. A kick to the muzzle and the hyena was unconscious.

There were weapons still being discharged but around the corner. Nick reloaded with another high-calibre magazine as Judy and Timberson approached him.

He did not like the expression on her face. She slapped him. He saw it coming but didn't dodge.

"Darling, save that for the mammals trying to kill us," he said, rolling his eyes. "And yes, I knew exactly how dangerous it was."

She huffed as the sounds of combat dimmed. "Don't you dare die on me, old man."

"Yes, Carrots."

"Hey boss, you might want to see this." That was Larry.

Nick followed his voice past the corner. There was a wolf bleeding on the floor, resting by the pillar, and being tended to by another. A curving wall to his left revealed racks of weapons and dead mammals.

Larry was by a door to his right. "We've got server's here."

Nick entered, immediately assaulted by the cold and the omnipresent hum of servers running. There was a computer that had been left on and Nick approached it. It was unlocked. There were terabytes upon terabytes on something called 'Project Reclamation' that he opened. He skimmed through the files before stepping back.

"Nick, what's wrong?"

"Hey, Judy, you sent that call to ZPD and Special Response, right?" A nod. "Have they responded?"

She frowned, removing her phone hidden behind layers of armour. She checked it quickly. "Yeah. Said they'll be here within the hour."

He gulped. "Good. Larry, make sure no one touches these servers." He walked out, heading to the second elevator.

He was stopped by the wolf. "You've got your evidence, don't you? So I don't know why you think going down there is a smart idea."

"Because of the mammals they're experimenting on." The silence was oppressive. "I don't know who they think they are but they will not get away with this."

"Whatever—" The radio crackled. "Castle-1 here."

"Larry, get back here and help with these bastards that came out of fucking nowhere."

"Will do." He shut off the radio. "Well, you guys do what you want. My people come first."

Nick scowled but held out his arm. Larry clasped it tightly. "I want a discount next time."

The wolf chuckled. "I think I've had enough of you. Three, make sure Five makes it."

He watched them head back to the elevator and enter it. The door closed shut leaving Nick with his partner and the rookie. He looked to her and offered her a smile. Then he clapped Timberson's shoulder.

"Let's play the game of what's behind elevator number two," he said theatrically. "Option one: a trap. Option two: a trap and an axe crazy impala. Option three: a trap and an angry Chief Bogo."

A punch on the shoulder from Judy. "You're such a child."

"Option two," Timberson said. "Statistically, usually, option two is correct due to rigging, sir."

Nick chuckled, letting Judy pull him to the elevator. Then he slammed the button for the elevator.

The next level was filled with high-tech stations that Nick could barely understand. But he understood computers well enough and the blue mixture near one was obvious. The computer was unlocked and Nick read through the contents quickly whilst Judy and Timberson patrolled the room. He grimaced at what he read, staring at the blue phials in horror.

 _Strain 34B was an abject failure. It provided immense physical and mental boosts for a minute before the subject's heart gave out. A step in the right direction in terms of results. The primary issue is the bonding to the subject's glands. Adrenaline has been observed to be a key component but the other components are unknown. More tests needed.  
_

He said that bit out loud for the benefit of the others.

 _Perhaps bring the fox. Bonding appears to have been successful. Retrieval mission with successful augments has a high probability of success. Live sample preferable._

Nick stumbled back, barely managing to hold back from vomiting.

He stood shakily, glancing around. Judy and Timberson were on the other side of the room. He packed the two phials of blue serum in a case. Nick handed it to the wolf. "Keep it safe."

Then he unstrapped his weapon following after Judy as they passed through the massive doorway to the left. The room was cavernous, larger than any other he had seen so far, and shrouded in darkness, walkways lining the walls and crisscrossing the air; an elevator in one of the walls. The only illumination came from the rows of glass bays, frosted over by the cold, rising higher than Nick was tall. He walked to one and brushed a paw across the frost.

A fox lay in the bay, needles injected at various points of its body. The vixen's expression was contorted in pain as the blue liquid was pumped into her veins. A monitor showed her heartbeat steadily increasing till the screen went from orange to red and then finally black. Dead.

His gun creaked ominously. Nick let up on his grip. "How many of these are there?" he asked, horrified.

"More than zero and that's too many," Judy said, her weight at his side. "This goes beyond monstrous."

A fast moving shape on the walkways. A slow tapping of metal on metal. A cackle of laughter.

"What's that, ma'am?" Timberson asked, his rifle raised and panning in every direction.

"Psyche warfare 101," Judy muttered as the laughter intensified. "Nick, you're up."

He inhaled, sifting past the scents of sterility and antiseptic and the artificial tang of the blue serum, searching for an antelope. Nick smelt other mammals, heard the near silent shuffling, and cursed mentally.

"Contact front," he whispered then he leapt up, landing on the tall bay. There, at the end of the room, slinking across the room on all fours was a set of cougars and leopards. They wore Kevlar vests and there was a weapon attached to a holster but in the low light, they were near invisible. The laughing only helped them stay silent.

Nick crouched and sighted down his weapon. He pulled the trigger. A flash of light brighter than the sun in this dark room. A riotous bang and the monstrous recoil of a high calibre cartridge being fired. The bullet flew true and the cougar dropped to the ground in a splatter of blood. The other mammals bolted in every direction.

 _The laughter stopped_ , Nick noted. He ducked, hearing the whoosh of a fast moving object. He twisted, seeing an impala in a pale green coat and holding something long that struck forward. A step back. Nick stumbled at the edge of the bay, teetering at the edge of falling.

The moment was all Cane needed. The pole struck his injured shoulder. His vision went white. The pain was glorious in magnitude. Nick forced his eyes open as the pole tugged at the strap of his gun, pulling him in Cane's direction. A knee to the torso, the blow slightly dampened by the vest and combat harness, and quick motion from her had him on the floor.

Nick flipped over on the floor, finally noticing the sounds of gunfire from Judy and Timberson. He aimed at Cane who leapt from bay to bay. A squeeze of the trigger. The spray flew inaccurately around her.

A curse and Nick was stepping back to the bay where the vixen lay dead. He dropped the gun and unstrapped the combat harness. It weighed too much and made him too slow to keep up with Cane. His service pistol in hand, Nick searched for Cane, filtering out the sounds as best he could. A cougar popped out of cover. Nick fired an errant bullet at it, watching dissatisfied as it went wide by a few centimetres.

"Nick!"

That was Judy.

Nick hardly had a moment to process the glass of the bay shattering or the pole butt that struck him square in the chest. He flew back and into the other room, slamming against a console.

He snarled, raising the gun and firing at the fast approaching Cane. He squeezed the trigger. She was already gone by then and the bullet flew harmlessly by her smiling face. Another two bullets yielded the same results.

Nick flipped over the console behind him, pulling the trigger as soon as he landed. The bullet flew wide but it forced her to move further away from the doorway. He fired until the gun was empty and Cane couldn't retreat.

The stun baton was unsheathed as Cane rushed him, leaping over the consoles with unbelievable speed and grace. Nick scrambled to the side as the pole came crashing down on the console, sending sparks flying in every direction.

He struck out with the baton. Cane's pole intercepted it. There were no spasms, no contractions of her muscles from the electricity. He finally got a good look at it. Wood, dark wood with leather grips on either end.

"Like it?" she asked and Nick cursed as she flicked the bottom of the pole forward and to his leg.

Nick grimaced, leaping forward and extending his closed paw forward. It was slapped aside by Cane's hoof. Pain bloomed as something struck his muzzle, maybe her pole and maybe a hoof. Either way, Nick was stumbling back, seeing double.

A kick to the chest and Nick was on the ground. Her hoof landed on his torso, keeping him down. He reached for the limb, weakly pushing with one hand as she laughed.

"So you managed to take down my dear friend," she said, increasing the pressure on his abdomen. "Let me tell you something: she was ordered to die. You never won anything."

Nick smirked. "Which is why I'm winning right now."

She tilted her head. "Wha—"

The floor was metallic. Metal conducts electricity. Nick's baton touched the floor. His muscles contracted and he probably blacked out for a second at the pain. But he forced through the pain, flicking the baton off.

Cane was twitching on the floor, still clutching her pole. Nick crawled to her placing the baton to her torso. "I win, bitch." Then he flicked it on.

He smiled at her writhing on the ground. After ten seconds, when he was certain she was unconscious, Nick switched it off.

He fell back, panting erratically. That's how Timberson and Judy found him. One of them threw his combat harness at him and he wore it quickly, strapping his gun on. He ejected the magazine, replacing it with an AP magazine.

The radio crackled. Judy answered. "Trident-1 here."

A beep had Nick frowning.

"Trident-1, it's your lucky day. A detachment of SRU and Internal Intelligence are headed here. ETA of fifteen minutes."

The radio went silent. "Well I think we're done here," Judy said.

Another beep. It was coming from the room with the mammals in the bays. "I don't think we're done."

He stood wearily, unclipping a flash grenade and taking cover behind a half-wall. The other two didn't question him. The elevator door opened and Nick threw the grenade with all his strength, ducking down.

Then he leant out of cover. The elevator was packed with mammals. Or rather, a few mammals squeezed in around an elephant. Nangi, he recognised even past all her armour.

A dull bang and another entrance was formed to the right. Nick opened fire, Judy and Timberson following after him.

They were safe behind the steel door, barricaded by barrier Timberson had erected. _Safe for how long_ , Nick wondered.

"Well, we're buggered," the young wolf said

"Thank you for that image, Timberson." He looked to Judy. "What's the plan?"

"You're not going to like it. We're nearly out of ammo and we've got two grenades between us." She gave him a tired smile. "I'm really sorry, Nick."

Judy leapt for the case.

She had the case and was on the other side of the room before anyone could react—Timberson because she was faster than him and Nick because electricity played havoc on his nerves. The case was open, a phial in her hand as Nick was standing.

"Judy, stop right there," he whispered, dread creeping down his spine.

Her smile was tired. Resigned. "We won't survive that. But maybe only you two need to survive."

"Don't do this to me." His voice cracked. "Please, don't leave me."

"Sorry, Nick, you'll have to find purpose another way." He watched the contents of the phial plunge straight through her system. "Maybe start that amusement park."

She disappeared. A gust of wind brushed past him, a blur he could barely make out streaking past Timberson and then she was back again in the same spot, vibrating with barely restrained energy.

"Is this how you feel Nick?" she asked, enraptured. "Check your pockets."

An explosion from the direction of the door stole whatever answer he might have given. There was a hole there through the steel and the stacked desks had been blown away. A streak of grey had Nick rushing to the door, straining to push aside the remaining desk. Timberson joined him and together they shoved it aside.

The room was in a state of carnage.

A streak of grey blazed across the room, hardly stopping for more than a second to lay down a burst of fire from the floor and the stations and even the air. Another explosion by a cluster of wolves had them dead or dying.

Nick forced his body into overdrive and the world slowed. A burst of light and he tracked it to a buffalo wearing armour. Judy stood on its head, her carbine—no, that was Nick's rifle spitting out a stream of deadly armour-piercing bullets through the buffalo's helmet and cranium. She ejected the magazine so fast that even to his enhanced senses it was nothing more than a blur before leaping away.

She landed on a tiger, firing through the thin armour by the throat. A stream of blood and Judy was moving again, firing mid-air at a leopard that died instantly.

He watched her. She was lightning given form, the cruel strike of a mad god; motion perfected, grace and speed and training coming together into one moment of perfection after another.

That only left the armoured elephant, Nangi, wielding two machine guns as if they weighed nothing.

Judy moved faster than she had, firing at every angle possible. And yet despite the armour-piercing bullets the elephant didn't fall.

It happened for a moment. Judy faltered, slowing down to normal speed for a second and clutching at her heart. It was enough for the elephant.

Nangi swung her weapons, both striking Judy across front and back. A crunch. Judy's expression contorted. Then she was thrown aside to a wall.

A scream tore from his mouth. Nick ran to her, already knowing the truth but refusing it in this cold and dark place. He vaguely noticed the discharge of a weapon, Timberson's violent snarl that awakened some long-dormant fear response. No, none of that was important. All that mattered was the shallow breaths of his partner, his lover of all of a day.

"Stay with me, Judy," he whispered.

A mangled paw rose, tapping one of the combat harness' pockets. She gave him a shaky smile, blood covering her muzzle. "Check it." Her eyes shut and her heart gave out, no longer beating.

Nick rose calmly, rejecting reality, and turning around. Timberson was against a wall, chest rising and falling. Nick felt at the pocket. Something cylindrical. He knew what it was.

He knew what he had to do.

Nangi stood in the middle of the room, breathing deeply and not paying attention to Nick. Everything came together; four years of physical conditioning and training; thousands of years of evolution; a serum that perfected.

Nicholas Wilde moved forward, so fast that he crossed the distance between two of Nangi's breaths. Her armour was still mostly perfect despite the magazine Judy had unloaded at her. Yet, there by her knee, was a tear, an almost invisible tear. But it was there.

Nick depressed the contents of the phial, returning it to his pocket and pulling out the hand-cannon. He fired once at her leg before moving away from her, ejecting the magazine and placing the full one.

"Why?" he asked as the elephant stumbled back. Sixty seconds to live. Villains liked monologues. "Why do all of this?"

The elephant regarded him with disdain, hardly noticing the poison in its veins. "I'll kill you first."

Nick shrugged. "Perhaps."

Something slammed into his back and Nick stumbled forward. Nangi moved quickly—faster than an elephant should—and swept his feet out from under him with the muzzle of a gun. As he fell he saw a bleeding leopard, a pistol aimed forward. Its head snapped back in a shower of gore. Timberson, still awake and panting weakly, slumping over.

There is pain and then there is _pain_. Nick experienced the second sort.

There was a moment of incomprehension as his mind tried to process the incongruous sight. There was his left leg and there was an elephant's leg on it. He saw the blood, noting almost absently the violent crunch.

 _My leg's crushed_ , his mind processed at a crawl.

The pain came then, eclipsing everything he had ever felt. It was like every injury he had every experienced was being relived in a single moment, all of it concentrated in one limb. He blacked out. The pain and adrenaline and the serum in his body forced him awake.

It was a cycle of pain and more pain, spiced up by a side of agony. His vision was blurry, whether from tears or the cold fingers of unconsciousness trying to drag him down, Nicholas didn't know—couldn't know.

"You asked why." The voice was something to focus on—a lifeline preventing him from sinking back into unconsciousness and possibly death. "My home was lost in the Third Refusal War. I watched my family cut down by cats and dogs in battlesuits, sending lances of plasma fire that tore through flesh and concrete, and blackening the sky with their swarms. In three decades nothing has been done. This nation is weak…"

His vision faded. A jolt of pain. Her hoof was twisting, grinding into whatever remained of his leg.

"Listen you bastard fox. This serum perfects. You saw Cane and Cape. You saw yourself. This was merely the beginning. I would push them back into the territories, killing every damned artificially evolved cat and dog we found." Nangi stumbled back, removing the weight from his leg and rubbing her chest. "I'm more tired than I thought."

Nicholas forced a chuckle through the pain. "Strain 34B. A failure. Now die for me, bitch."

He savoured the shock, the horror, the rage and the despair as the elephant kept stumbling back, collapsing to her knees. "You bastard."

He coughed. "You killed her."

He grabbed his hand-cannon, raising it despite the pain—because the physical pain was nothing compared to the pain of not having Judy. The recoil shook him, sending a renewed wave pain down his body. Yet it was worth seeing the bullet punch through her face plate, the small explosion destroying her cranium.

Nangi Chopra fell back, all of her dreams and machinations dead with her.

Nicholas let the weapon fall out of his paw. Then he flipped over, biting back a scream, and fighting through the tears. He crawled forward to Judy, regardless of the pain his mangled leg caused him. Nothing mattered more than Judy. Nothing.

He barely managed to prop himself against the wall and took her still body in his arms. Tears streamed down his muzzle.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered and whispered and whispered.

Nicholas didn't notice when the mammals in heavy weapons and dark armour entered, followed by EMTs. Everything else was irrelevant.

Someone touched him, saying something he couldn't recognise. The mammal tried pulling him away from Judy. Nicholas' arm lashed out, striking the neck and collapsing the mammal's throat.

"Restrain him."

"Don't hurt him."

"Be careful."

Their words were immaterial, the nattering of a gnat. Something pricked his neck. He pulled out the tranquillizer dart. How foolish to think something like that would matter. Another dart and another.

Then he was fading.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This is a tragedy and the summary does say 'of loss and of love'. If I'm being honest, thinking the concept up had me bawling. Writing it was exponentially worse.  
**

 **Goodbye, Judy Hopps. I will miss you.**

 **One last chapter and Nick's last ride ends.**


	7. Epilogue

_There was once a fox cub. Some called him Nick and others Nicky. A small mammal that became a big mammal called him 'my boy' and all of these were true names. There was once a bright light in him, an unconquered sun that brought joy to all who saw him. But everything crumbles and falls apart. A muzzle conquered that sun and from that day on the fox made a life of playing on people's emotions, drawing them in and stealing bit and pieces of warmth from them. This fox was also called Nick or Nicky or my boy._

 _And then came a day when a dumb rabbit fell for his hustle. She hustled him in turn and forced him down a new road. There was light at the end of this road. They thought they had won and she stood there on that podium giving a speech._

 _And all he remembered was that muzzle from so long ago._

 _So he confronted her and that light disappeared. Because how could he be so foolish to think there was still good in the world._

 _Months, three of them, passed in which his home was racked with pain and strife. But what hurt most was the light being taken away again. He thought of her day after day because she was like lightning and wildfire and sunlight; she was warmth and heat and life. So when she returned, how could he not forgive her, not when she came back holding his life in her hands? They won and saved the city and saved his life._

 _Four years of warmth and light and budding love, nurtured by every kind word and cutting joke. She challenged him as did his job—no, a job is dreary; what he did was a badge of honour that he willingly took up each and every day. He made friends; an arrogant tiger and a dour wolf; two smart lions and even a dedicated and hardworking pig, now passed away. This grown fox, now afire with light and love and joy and justice and everything good in the world, this fox is still called Nick or Nick and my boy. The darkness is still there, the apathy and despair that took over two decades of his life still reside within him. Yet in the face of one who is warmth and life and justice, that darkness was held at bay._

 _Now that fox stands in a bright hall. There she is, dressed in a gown of the brightest purple. Her smile raises his heart, lifts him past whatever murky depths had risen in her absence._

 _Their friends are there, speaking or laughing or just being. He takes in their warmth, their joy, letting it fill the dark corners of his mind._

 _A smirk on his face, the fox that is Nick or Nicky or my boy walks up to her and takes her paw. There is music and together they dance round and round for an eternity. He twirls her around and she does the same to him. She is his equal but he will always see her as being taller and greater and more._

 _And the music ends and they stop dancing and there are people clapping. He pants, tired and yet invigorated.  
_

" _We've never done that before, have we, Judy?" he asks though he knows the answer._

 _Her smile is sunlight given form. "We should go again, darling." Two steps back and then she's out of reach. But not her warmth. She kneels, removing something that he has yet to see. There are gasps and whispers and exclamations from those around them._

" _Will you marry me?" she asks and now he sees there is a ring in that black box. What words can be said when all of your hopes and desires come true? Only tears. "You've been taking your time, old man. If we waited for you I'd be in a retirement home."_

 _The simple answer is yes._

 _Life is never so simple._

 _"I wish I could," the fox who has known despair and exultation whispers. "I wish I could but you're not here sweetheart, and I wish this was true but it isn't. I saw you die and it was beautiful and it was heart-breaking." A paw to his chest and he feels the steady beat of his heart. And maybe it shouldn't beat. Not when his reason for living is gone._

" _You died as you lived, Judy Hopps. My sly bunny. My best friend. The only mammal I ever loved." He kneels so that he is eye-level with her. Only now does he notice the emptiness that surrounds them. Only darkness but for the light around and within Judy._

" _You died in glorious revelation. You died protecting me after you made me swear an oath to stay alive. I hate you, Judy, because I can't join you just yet. And I'll always love you for the gifts you gave me."_

 _She walks to him, her steps leaving pools of light in the dark. Her paw is gentle as it brushes aside the tears and her smile is the greatest sight he has ever seen. "I love you, my dumb fox. And I'm sorry."_

 _He takes her in his arms. Just, to feel her one last time. His soul is at ease with her so close even though he feels the finality of this. This is not see you later. This is goodbye._

" _Don't be," he whispers fiercely, gripping her tighter. "Don't ever be sorry for being you. I don't… I don't want to let go."_

" _But you have to."_

" _You gave me purpose."_

 _She pulls away once again and no matter how much he struggles she slips out of his grasp. "We are who we are, sweetheart. Go start that park, Nick. Find purpose again, and then, when you're old and surrounded by loved ones you can join me. I'll always be waiting for you."_

 _A burst of light and she disappears, leaving him alone. All that remains of her are the puddles of light. And maybe one day they'll grow till they shine brighter than the darkness. But for now, all that matters is the emptiness.  
_

 **Epilogue**

Nick woke in a single moment. The lights were dimmed but Nick looked around, seeing the hospital room. A monitor beeped steadily, a heartbeat that he couldn't feel. He looked around and found no one waiting for him. That only happened in movies, he supposed.

His body was tired but not half as much as his soul. A button rested innocently near his right paw. Nick tapped it, wondering why he wasn't in pain.

Thinking about it made it real. His crushed leg felt as if someone had replaced bones with a sizzling hot pole of metal. His shoulder throbbed dully. He groaned, tears prickling at the corners of his eye.

The door opened. A badger in a white lab coat entered, its eyes shocked. "Mr Wilde, you're not—"

"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice coming out as a dry croak.

"Yes, you're the one who arrested me a few years back," the badger said, pressing another button. Nick felt the pain subside.

Helping him sip from a bottle of water, the badger asked, "How do you feel?"

"I think you can guess from my expression," he remarked. "I feel like I lost a fight with an elephant. What's the damage?"

"Sir, I think you—"

"Should go back to sleep? That what you were going to say." His words came out harsh, harsher than he expected. "Just tell me what's wrong."

The badger sighed. "You shoulder had a few fractures and you had some bruises and scratches here and there. You might have a few scars but that was the easiest to deal with." The badger shook her head. "You leg was the main problem. Most of the bones were broken or shattered. You've healed remarkably well but we had to replace your knee joint with a prosthetic. We have a nano-mesh reinforcing your femur and tibia. Unfortunately, we've had to completely replace your fibula."

Nick grimaced. "How long until I'm out."

The doctor frowned. "Your body has healed quickly, almost unnaturally so. And if I'm being completely honest, you can probably go free after three days of observation."

Three days passed by in a blur of, his only visitors being mammals in dark suits waving credentials from the highest levels of power. He was a hero, they said. They gave him an award that he hardly glanced at. They tried prying information from him. But he couldn't speak, couldn't mention it because he always saw Judy in that final moment.

His doctor came to visit him often, keeping his company with her commentary on his healing. All of it hardly mattered a lick to him. In the silence and the peace he was left with his thoughts—always thoughts of Judy; what could have been and what will never be; all the mistakes he made, how his arrogance killed her.

At the end of those three days, they had a mammal pick him up and take him to his apartment. He refused the wheelchair, opting instead for the cane. Because Nick was not an invalid no matter how much they sought to treat him like one.

He hobbled through the apartment building, his cane tapping with each second step. The sound grated, tearing apart his ego with each tap against the tiles.

Click, clack. Click, clack. Click, clack. Over and over again, a constant reminder of his failures.

The apartment had been cleaned. He checked the fridge. Absolutely empty of all perishables. Three weeks in the hospital, they told him, under an induced coma.

The freezer had some protein substitutes and one of those microwavable pies. He waited the ten minutes patiently and then consumed it all, having been unaware of how ravenous he really was.

He didn't look to the other room of the apartment. No, it was empty now and no one would ever come out like a tornado, brightening his day and bringing back the warmth he sought so hard for.

Nick slept.

He woke with sunlight streaming on his face. 0734. Late on any other day. Nick took a shower then threw on his uniform. There was one last thing to do. He made sure the taser was strapped on properly before departing.

The Zootopia 1st Precinct was different. There was a fresh coat of pain, technicians and engineers scurried around, doing whatever it was that they did to fix the damage and upgrade security—he saw pressure sensors being installed; a few entrenched positions and choke points; shield walls that would retract into the ground when not in use.

The inside was the same. The tiles still reflected his face. But the sound of the cane was new. He had his trademark smirk on as if nothing had happened. The usual collection of mammals was there from rookies in a rush to detectives chatting amicably. But they fell silent as they noticed him. Nick didn't let that bother him. There wasn't much left to be bothered.

Clawhauser was at his desk, a doughnut halfway to his gaping mouth. The cheetah managed to compose himself in a reasonable amount of time. "Nick." There was awe and maybe wariness in his voice.

"Hey, Clawhauser." He plucked a doughnut from the box, taking a bite as if it was just any other day. "Chief in?"

The cheetah nodded slowly and Nick walked up The Route to the buffalo's office. He knocked sharply twice, only hearing the Chief's breathing, and opened the door.

The office was just as he remembered. The same carpet and worn desk. The same awards and pictures. The only difference was the buffalo that looked to be… uncertain? That was certainly a first.

Nick took the only seat there. "Hey, Chief," he said first. "What, were you expecting me to stay at home all day?"

Chief Bogo recovered. "Wilde. What the hell do you think you're doing back here? I knew you were dedicated but this…"

"I never did get a debrief," Nick said.

And so he told Bogo the story of how one murder turned into a conspiracy that would have changed the nature of the city. He explained every errant thread that now made sense looking back over the event. It took a long time because Nick had to tell the story as it was, not leaving out even the smallest details. Chief Bogo listened patiently, only interrupting to ask for clarification.

"What happens now?"

The buffalo exhaled deeply through his nose. "That comes down to you. What do you want to do?"

Nick smiled. It wasn't a happy expression. He thumbed the badge on his uniform.

"I think I'm going to retire." He unclipped it, placing it on Bogo's desk. Next was the taser. "I'd give you my pistol but I have no idea where that is."

The Chief was quiet for a long time. Then, "Losing a partner is never easy and what you went through is more than most will ever go through. But I need to know, why. I need to know if you're certain."

Nick chuckled, bitterly. "I joined this office because of her. Everything I did was because she made me want to be better. And now she's gone." He looked at the badge almost in regret. "Four years ago we set out to save the city. We did. We did it again a month ago. I'm thirty-six and crippled and my partner's gone. I think I've given enough."

Chief Bogo hummed. Then he stood. "Walk with me."

His pace wasn't slow and Nick struggled to keep up with his long strides. Yet, it made Nick smile to know the chief would never coddle him.

"You two have caused me enough grief," he said as they descended the stairs. "But you've done a lot of good." The lobby was empty and Nick wondered why. "You're right. You've given enough for the blue."

Chief Bogo pushed open the wide lobby doors. Without his sunglasses the harsh light blinded him. But they adjusted quickly. Four lines of ZPD officers and detectives and even members of Special Response, all standing solemnly and each holding a rifle.

"Present arms!" Chief Bogo boomed.

The officers turned on the spot. Nick gaped, wondering for a moment if he was still in a coma. But the sun felt too real, too hot. He smelt the sweat and construction dust and metal too clearly for this to be a dream.

"You are a credit to the blue, Nicholas Piberius Wilde," the chief said loudly, strongly, solemnly. "You have conducted yourself as befitting your station; with honour and dignity and diligence. Never once did you hesitate and because of that you have saved this city, not merely once, but twice. Your decisions required courage beyond measure. You have sacrificed and you have lost.

"Your actions ennoble all of us and they will not be forgotten. You will always wear the blue."

Then the chief saluted. Over forty other mammals saluted as well. Why? Why would they do this? This was no victory. Nick didn't deserve this. And yet he forced a smirk on his face. Even now there was warmth in his soul.

Bogo spoke once more, this time in a whisper: "The car will take you wherever you want."

So Nick walked down the stairs and down the corridor of saluting officers, his cane tapping constantly on the ground. The sound didn't bother him half as much. The driver, a jackrabbit, opened the door for him, closing it after he entered.

"Where to, sir?"

He thought for a single second. "Bunnyburrow. It's time to go back one last time. Some apologies that need to be made."

"Of course, sir."

And then the car set off. Nick watched the landscape change from the city's high-rise buildings to much smaller ones, eventually becoming open land on either side of the road. He dosed off. Some feeling, the evolutionary feeling of being watched and hunted, woke him up and he cracked a lazy eye open.

"You might not want to reach for that gun," he said tiredly, analysing distances and reaction times quickly. This was a fight he would win, Nick decided, even injured and unarmed. "I'd rather not have to explain why I broke your neck."

The jackrabbit chuckled. "They told me you were good and I've seen the files but…" The rabbit shook his head. "My name's Jack Savage and I have a job to offer you, Mister Wilde."

 _Eighteen Months Later_

It was time. The labour of a year and a half would come to fruition on this day. Nick felt the warmth of the mid-morning sun hit him harshly. It was a hot day, almost painfully so even with the environmental controls.

He rested heavily on his cane, his new and improved cane and not the hospital-issue one. The handle was silver and the design simple unlike some of the others he had seen. The main body was a wood so dark as to be black, careful carvings dotting the surface, and silver stripes running down its length. It was a work of art in its own way.

The line was long, stretching down past the street and all waiting anxiously for him to get on with it. So Nick smirked, using the cane heavily as he walked to the red ribbon. He took a pair of scissors from an attendant in purple clothing. _Her favourite_ , he thought.

He coughed once. "I won't keep you waiting with some boring speech," he said, his voice carried by the speakers embedded all round. "I just want you to remember one thing: have a wild time." Then he cut the ribbon to cheers and roars and claps.

Nick watched as the first mammals bought their day-passes from the attendant in the booth before heading through the large arch. There was a sign there, one that always made him sad but always brought a smile to his face. It read:

 _Judy's Wild Times_

He thought she might enjoy it. He hoped she did because this, all of this, was for her. It always would be.

A gaggle of young mammals, rambunctious and earnest ran around him, chattering away so fast any other mammal would have failed to keep up. Nick answered their questions, keeping up with them easily. They called him Old Man Wilde for the white streaks on his muzzle and neck, and the cane he used. He never told them the white fur was from his scars and the cane from having an elephant crush his legs. Their guesses were too entertaining, to tell the truth.

They ran past after they were done, waving their golden tickets—week long entry passes. Nick watched them wondering when his smirk had become a soft smile.

He inhaled, smelling the polar bear before he approached. "Hey, Koslov," Nick said, turning to face the gargantuan bear in his perpetually dark clothing and gold chains. "And hey to you, Mr Big, Fru Fru."

The small shrews were held in Koslov's paws, sitting on what looked to be rather comfortable settees. Mr Big wore casual clothes—a two-piece suit which was as close to casual as he would ever get—whilst Fru Fru wore a dark green dress. It was pretty and brought out her eyes. He said so. She blushed, giggling nervously and clutching the tiny—tinier?—shrew closer to her.

"Nicky, my boy," the slightly reformed crime boss said. "You've done a good job with this."

"I aim to please. Now, whilst I might be one of the attractions, there just happens to be a section for smaller mammals."

"Daddy, let's go. This little one wants to see everything."

Mr Big sighed but there was a certain fondness for it. "Koslov, take us."

They walked past him leaving Nick relatively alone. He still spoke to and greeted the mammals here—his charm was part of the attraction—but by and large he saw no one he knew. Which bothered him because he knew the entirety of ZPD had week-long passes as well.

"What's wrong with you?" a deep voice asked.

Nick turned, taking in Finnick. "Aw, have you lost your mommy. Come, let me help you find her."

"Wilde, I'll break your other leg."

A chuckle. "You can try. So what, you don't like some of the rides. I promise if you show your ID they'll believe you're older than six." He lifted his leg away from Finnick's kick. He would have replied if not for a loud voice calling his name.

It was Benjamin Clawhauser, wearing civilian clothes for the first time. And behind him were other mammals he knew well; Fangmeyer and Delgado, Wolford and Francine, and all the rest. Nick walked to meet them half-way.

"I can't believe you actually did this," Ben exclaimed. "Like I mean I heard you were doing it but I didn't believe it."

Nick smirked. "I am unbelievable, aren't I?"

"Not in a good way," Fangmeyer said. "I don't know about you mammals but Bogo wants us back in two hours for the next shift. So bye." And with that she left, Francine and some of the others following her.

"Shifts?" he asked, watching her go bemusedly.

"Yeah. four shifts, two hours each just for the opening. Chief's really nice," Ben said. Nick glanced at Wolford who simply shook his head. "So what's the best ride?"

"Try the Big Hop," he said. "I promise you'll find it interesting."

"Thanks for the tickets, Nick."

Wolford, wearing a simple blue vest, made a sound that might have been a snort or a chuckle or a huff. It was hard to tell with the grumpy wolf. "Cub's ride."

"You know me," Nick said, wagging his brows. "I didn't think this was your beat."

"No. Came to see how you were." Nick tilted his head. "None of that easy smirking and misdirection. The truth, Wilde."

He stared at the wolf, silent for a beat. He shook his head.

"I'll live. I've got this to keep me busy." He looked back at his amusement park, seeing the Ferris wheel and the roller-coaster. He owned the land next to the park and he planned on expanding as soon as possible. "There's no getting over what happened. She was more than my partner. But I know she'd be upset if I didn't die an old man."

A grunt. Then a paw ruffling his head. "You already are an old man." He watched Wolford catch up with the other cops and ignored the ache in his heart. That was another life and it wasn't a life he wanted to go back to.

The day had gone well enough and it gave him the chance to see some mammals he hadn't spoken to in a while; Flash with his ever-slow speech; a conversation with Judy's parents and some of their many, many children that was hardly as awkward as he was expecting; a gruff greeting from Bogo; and, shockingly enough, Gazelle and her backup dancers—each coming at different intervals so as to not attract attention—and hadn't that conversation been entertaining, especially after he told her he would have the attendants deny paparazzi entrance.

So now he walked down the streets of Zootopia, taking in how little the city had changed. It was still loud; the sky tram whizzing high above; the road rage of drivers with too little patience and empathy; old squabbles finding new people; cubs laughing and crying; at least five shady deals going on his vicinity alone; and the ever present warmth of new love and old love.

It was beautiful and nothing else could compare. This was home and though he might no longer wear the blue—and whilst he thought the square named after him was a bit too much, or the statue in front of the Judy Hopp's Memorial building too small, well those were minor issues that he could overlook—he would always protect it.

But it wasn't perfect.

Nick placed his weight on his good leg, the right one and swung the cane to the side. It caught the mammal's leg and it tumbled to the ground. Nick looked at the downed mammal dispassionately. Flicked his cane across its snout and watched the light go out of its eyes—unconscious.

There were two more, an elk and a leopard and both had terribly maintained guns on them. Nick shifted slightly to the left half a second before the leopard finished pulling the trigger. The bullet flew harmlessly by his shoulder.

Nick leapt forward, landing on his good leg. He shifted aside from the wild punch. His cane lashed out rapidly, striking the leopard faster than it could react. It collapsed to the ground.

He ducked beneath the next bullet, noting the elk's reaction time. Then he lunged forward, cane swinging and knocking its weapon out of its hand. A curse from the elk that scrambled back rapidly.

"Let me guess, you're some small time hicks that thought you could make a name for yourselves by attacking me," Nick said as the elk pulled out a wickedly long blade. "I personally don't care about that."

The knife was a blur of silver to any ordinary mammal. Nick wasn't ordinary. He stepped out of the blade's arc, arms lashing out and gripping the knife-paw as he stepped forward, placing his leg behind the elk's leg. He pushed forward, taking the elk down. It landed hard on the ground. Nick placed the butt of his cane against its throat, stepping on the knife-paw.

"Who's supplying you with the serum?" he asked calmly. "Because I would get a refund if I were you. The shaking means your dose was spliced with something. And your reaction time tells me your dose was diluted. Now, tell me all about your supplier."

"Fuck you." Nick leant out of the way of a wad of spit. "I ain't ever speaking and you ain't no cop."

"You're right, I _ain't_ a cop. I'm much worse." He took out his badge, enjoying how the mammal's eyes widened. "But I'll let my co-workers deal with you." There was a depression on his cane that he pressed. The silver running down the wood electrified and the elk convulsed until passing out.

Nick took a step back and wiped his paws against the lapels of his dark suit. He adjusted the charcoal suit tie. Then he made a phone call.

"Hey, Savage, I've got three mammals hopped up on Cobra Blue." He cut the phone, looking up to the setting sky. He knew what the badge read:

 _Agent Nicholas P. Wilde_

 _Special Investigations Group_

He took a deep breath, feeling Judy' absence like a blow to the gut. Nothing ever felt right without her next to him, offering a smart remark or challenging him at every step. He couldn't smell her scent—lavender and leather and gun oil. Couldn't take in every variation in her fur. But he always remembered the promise he made.

"Well, Carrots," he said, looking to the sky. A tram passed by on the sky railing. "I guess I'm in for one last ride."

 **The End**

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This story was fun to write, very fun. I hope all of you who made it this far enjoyed it.**

 **Judy's death hurt but not half as much as the first scene in this chapter. I hope you all felt just a fraction of what Nick felt.**

 **As for Jack Savage. He was originally the main character during the planning stages of Zootopia and he was in essence James Bond.**

 **During some of the later planning stages Nick was meant to wear a suit and I think he was supposed to be a spy or something along those lines.**

 **Once again: you're all awesome and I hope you enjoyed it.**


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